FIRESIDE FANCIES 

BY 

BEULAH C. GARRETSON 




PHILADELPHIA & LONDON 
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 

1899 



To vi 



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V 



97 



Copyright, 1898 

BY 

Beulah C. Garretson 



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TO THE MEMORY 

OF 

MY FATHER 

AND TO 

MY MOTHER 

I DEDICATE THIS LITTLE 
VOLUME 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/firesidefanciesOOgarr 



Contents 

¥ 

PAGE 

Fireside Fancies 7 

Cobwebs 18 

The Time is Now 21 

Stability of Character 29 

Adaptability 36 

Individual Influence 41 

True to One's Self 47 

Friendship 53 

Ambition 59 

The First Snow 65 

Books 70 

Books and People 79 

Authorship 88 

Novels 95 

Imagination versus Facts 102 

Castine 109 

Men and Women 117 

Women and their Interests 128 

Females Unattached and Otherwise .... 137 

Church and Religion 145 

Weimar and Naishapur 151 

5 



Contents 

PAGE 

Society 163 

Castles in Spain 169 

Education 176 

Music 183 

Spring 190 

Wealth 198 

Hours Lost and Hours Gained 205 

Culture 212 



Fireside Fancies 



THE world outside is white and silent. 
The bare branches of the trees 
stretch themselves a black and ghostly- 
tracery against the gleaming background. 
The dark pines throw strange fantastic 
shadows quite in harmony with the low 
weird music caused by the gentle breath 
of wind as it sweeps lightly over them. 
Above all the solemn, star-strewn vault of 
heaven. Intensely blue and cold and far 
away it looks with its myriads of other 
worlds unconcernedly holding their allotted 
place in the universe. 

On such a night the warm glow of the 
blazing logs offers an inducement not to be 
resisted; one willingly succumbs to the 
cheery influence of the fitful firelight and 
idly falls to watching the smoke as it curls 
lazily upward and out through the dark 
7 



Fireside Fancies 

throat of the chimney. No light save of 
the ruddy flames as they flicker and dance 
in capricious play now here, now there, 
blazing gayly one minute, the next sinking 
down to a faint blue light. 

It is very attractive, very seductive to 
thought ; one quickly falls to dreaming, — 
dreaming about everything, about nothing, 
phantom chases phantom through the 
brain, the mind but half conscious of the 
kaleidoscopic movement as each figure 
gives place to the next, some grave, some 
gay, some bringing a tender smile, others 
a half-suppressed sigh. 

There is no sound but that of the crack- 
ling logs, the world with its busy rush and 
turmoil is shut out, forgotten for the time, 
and silence reigns. That profound still- 
ness which is so helpful, so restful, where 
no jarring sound disturbs the half-formed 
thought or mocks the dreamer's earnest 
mood. From this silence may be claimed 
a truer knowledge of life and of self. At 
such a time one may meet and greet his 
own identity, analyze each thought and 
action in a curious, impersonal manner, 
8 



Fireside Fancies 

rather as one would examine minutely 
some specimen of the genus homo placed 
under a glass case in a museum and his 
individuality laid bare for inspection. 

An English writer has said there is much 
help in silence. From its touch we gain 
renewed life. Silence is to the soul what 
his mother earth is to Briareus, from con- 
tact with it we rise healed of our hurts and 
strengthened for the fight. 

"Amid the babel of the schools we stand 
bewildered and affrighted. Silence gives 
us peace and hope. Silence teaches us no 
creed, only that God's arms are around the 
universe. 

" How small and unimportant seem our 
fretful troubles and ambitions when we 
stand with them in our hand before the 
great, calm face of silence ! We smile at 
them and are ashamed. 

" Silence teaches us how little we are, — 
how great we are. In the world's market- 
places we are tinkers, tailors, apothecaries, 
thieves, — respectable or otherwise, as the 
case may be, — mere atoms of a mighty 
machine, — mere insects in a vast hive. It 
9 



Fireside Fancies 

is only in silence that it comes home to 
us that we are something much greater 
than this, — that we are men, — with all the 
universe and with all eternity before us." 

With this solemn stillness come more 
earnest thoughts ; the mind wanders back 
over the years already gone, pausing to 
gaze in contemplation at the mile-stones 
that mark the way passed over. With 
what eager hope and joyful aspirations 
were some approached ! with hopes that 
blessed in their fruition or turned to dust 
and ashes in the mouth, while some were 
passed with aching heart and eyes averted. 

In the spring-time of life these mile- 
stones hold all the mystical attraction the 
future contains. With head erect and firm, 
unfaltering feet, we go forth to meet and 
pass them. Fearlessly, curiously indeed, 
do we hurry forward, chiding impatiently 
the slower gait of our elders, with whom 
for courtesy's sake we must try to keep 
apace to lend to their lagging steps a sup- 
porting arm, for, the zenith of life reached, 
they are in no such haste to cover the dis- 
tance between one mile-stone and the next. 



Fireside Fancies 

Hot and dusty the road stretches out be- 
fore them, while cool and restful is the 
shade of yonder tree. 

But in the fulness of time the journey 
must be taken, it is inevitable ; on and still 
on we go, penetrating the future, living, en- 
joying, regretting, only to repeat the same 
again and again, for our lives change almost 
imperceptibly, scene follows scene with such 
quiet persistency that we scarcely realize 
when one begins or when it fades away. 
Always we are looking forward, planning, 
hoping, aspiring. 

In this flickering, uncertain firelight one's 
thoughts naturally fall upon the vicissitudes 
of human life, — how like it is to the flame 
before us ! At first only a feeble spark 
which has to be coaxed along, then a flame 
more or less brilliant, a gradual loss of 
light and heat, and then a bed of embers 
which slowly die one by one. If that were 
all, truly the game would not be worth the 
candle. But to return once more to the 
simile. When the first faint spark appears 
and is breaking into a glow, with what care 
and interest is it watched, how, when the 



Fireside Fancies 

feeble life seems about to go out, do we 
tend and help it, and what gratified pleasure 
do we experience when it breaks into a 
cheerful blaze and gives to us the warmth 
and comfort to which our care is entitled ! 

With keenest pleasure do we watch its 
ever-varying moods, a little anxious when 
it mounts too high, satisfied and at ease 
when it burns with steady, quiet purpose. 
Safest that for any life. 

Then comes the gradual loss of power. 
But what matters that ! While it lived it 
served its purpose. Light, warmth, heat, 
pleasure it gave, to all who sought it, — gave 
freely and without stint of all that it had 
to give. Its life was beautiful and useful. 
The dying embers glowing with the same 
steady purpose to the end, the light softer, 
more tender, until the last faint gleam 
had gone. Well done can be its record 
too. And for it also the law of correlation 
brings a resurrection, for the dead ashes 
are cast forth upon the barren earth and in 
the spring a new life rises from them. 

In the waning light one falls to wonder- 
ing how he would have shaped his course 



Fireside Fancies 

could he have foreseen the future, wonder- 
ing if he has used his talents to the best 
advantage, if he has made a man of him- 
self worthy of some younger life following 
in his footsteps. There are many to watch 
and be influenced by his manner of living. 

The thought is disturbing to the waking 
dreamer, and he is glad to have his ideas 
diverted by a sudden shower of sparks 
followed by a cheerful blaze. 

But again he falls to probing the ob- 
scurity of the future, trying to fathom what 
it holds in store for him, and wondering 
how he is prepared to meet and face the 
unknown. 

This great mysterious future which holds 
such a fascination for all ! Much better 
we should not know what lies before us, 
what dark hours must fall to our lot, for in 
that case the knowledge would prove such 
a grievous burden as to quite unfit us for 
bearing ourselves bravely when the time 
of trouble arrives. No matter how dark 
the present, for the future there is always 
hope. 

Life means so much to some, so little to 
13 



Fireside Fancies 

others. It is true circumstances do shape 
our destinies, but often it is possible to 
so shape those circumstances as to bring 
about a much better result. We are too 
apt to let matters drift and so shape them- 
selves. 

To succeed in any attempt means con- 
stant care — eternal vigilance. 

It is a great fashion people have of 
waiting, Macawber-like, for something to 
turn up. Give me an opportunity, set me 
some great task, then I will show the world 
what I can do. This is their cry, oblivious, 
apparently, to the fact that most people 
have to carve out their own fortunes. It 
is only by faithfully and conscientiously 
performing such duties as come to them 
in relation to the minor affairs of life that 
they are prepared to cope with the really 
great problem when it is presented. These 
small every-day matters seem very trivial 
and unimportant, yet are of vast account 
in order to keep the tenor of life well bal- 
anced. Training is one of the vital points 
of living. 

It is comparatively easy to attempt the 
14 



Fireside Fancies 

mastery of things great, the successful ac- 
complishment of which brings praise and 
honor. But it is the things small, the 
wee little pin-pricks of life, that show of 
what stuff one is really made. It requires 
true heroism to live above these apparently 
trifling matters which occur every hour of 
the day — every day of the year. To ac- 
complish this with serene face and unruffled 
brow means victory, indeed, but it brings no 
laurels with it. This silent, unseen victory 
over self is worthy of the highest praise, all 
the more because it has been helped on by 
no word of cheer or encouragement. It 
is a wonderful help to hear a word of praise 
occasionally, an acknowledgment that the 
effort made is appreciated. 

Life is a mystery for most, meaning much 
more to some than to others ; with the in- 
evitable end, death, for all. How fearfully 
some advance to meet it, how fearlessly 
others ! Yet why should any one fear ? 
true, no one knows what lies beyond, but 
why fear because of that? 

If it is the parting of the ego from the 
body, why should not that same fear be 
IS 



Fireside Fancies 

experienced each night ? Yet how gladly 
we lay our tired bodies down upon the 
bed to rest, quite conscious that in a short 
time, through the agency of that mystic 
power, sleep, the ego will have parted com- 
pany with the body as effectually as though 
they had never been a part of each other. 

No one denies that sleep is other than 
a great blessing, yet who looks upon 
death as anything but a misfortune when 
it comes in the vigor of life. 

While we sleep the something left lying 
upon the bed is nothing but an inert mass 
of bones and tissue, the individuality may 
be thousands of miles away utterly uncon- 
scious of the now useless body. 

As one never considers the daytime 
body as in any way unusual, so it is with 
the dream body : whatever it may be, it is 
quite as useful for the purpose and quite 
as much a matter of course as the more 
substantial one of flesh and blood. 

To compare sleep and death would seem 
to do away with all fear regarding the 
hereafter. 

Death is but a prolonged sleep for the 
16 



Fireside Fancies 

body, — the ego, that something which 
makes man other than a soulless image, 
is free as air ; clothed in whatever form it 
may be, again it is all-sufficient for the 
purpose. There can be no regret for the 
old body laid aside any more than in our 
dreams our daytime bodies are missed. 
With new surroundings they have ceased 
to be necessary. 

Looked upon in this light death remains 
a mystery, but holds no terror. 

As we live it may be our hereafter is in- 
fluenced, — who can say? As the man's 
intelligence is greater than the child's, so 
perhaps wisdom and knowledge will in- 
crease with changed environments. 

At all events, it is certainly worse than 
useless to worry about what we do not 
and cannot know. What all do know is, 
that as we live wisely and in accordance 
with nature's laws so much more satisfac- 
tion and happiness do we gain from our 
present existence, and whatever may lie 
before us in the life beyond the grave 
good deeds and manly actions are not 
likely to jeopardize the future. 

2 17 



Fireside Fancies 



COBWEBS 

Delicate cobwebs of fancy are the 
thoughts that festoon themselves from cor- 
ner to corner of the brain. Vague, un- 
certain, and shadowy as the gossamer 
fabric that gives them a name. Marvel- 
lous and complicated are they during their 
mystic progress through the brain. 

Never is this mass of gray matter in- 
active. Even while the body is at rest the 
mind continues to work. 

How subtle are some of these fancies ! 
too elusive are they to even make an effort 
to grasp them. Such are the dew-drops 
on the web, which the sunlight of consec- 
utive thought causes to disappear even 
while it is in the act of stretching out a 
detaining hand. 

Like some gorgeous-winged creature, 
these fantastic fancies pause for an instant 
in their aerial flight, only to vanish before 
one becomes fully conscious of their pres- 
ence. 

18 



Cobwebs 

Dainty and airy and dim are these fra- 
gile fancies of light. The filmy cords 
reached out to stay and chain them prove 
how ineffectual they are for so difficult a 
task. 

At first mere threads, reaching out they 
make fast one end, then another and an- 
other, until a foundation is formed on 
which to work out the intricate pattern. 
Little by little it grows and grows, gaining 
strength and shape with each additional 
effort. 

The busy insect worker has his pur- 
pose too ; laboriously he works to sustain 
life. He too, must have method, ways 
and means. He weaves his web that he 
may live. It seems a cruel purpose, yet 
all things prey upon some other. Here 
also it is still the survival of the fittest. 
How energetic and tireless is this hurrying 
little creature racing back and forth with 
incredible speed ! too rapid is his work to 
seem to admit of any design ; yet how 
symmetrical, how perfect is the finished 
product ! how exquisite is it when spread 
upon grass or hedgerow, glistening and 
19 



Fireside Fancies 

sparkling with cups of crystal and jewels 
left by the elf-folk in their hurry to escape 
to the mossy greenwood before the first 
faint gleams of crimson and gold appear 
to streak the eastern sky and bid a glad 
good-morning to the refreshed earth, pro- 
claiming by their presence the advent of 
another day ! 

More substantial than these vanishing 
fairy fabrics are the cobwebs of thought 
woven by the human worker. 

From small beginnings can great things 
come ; so small and insignificant at first as 
scarce to attract one instant's notice ; yet 
the filmy thread of thought has come in 
some way, and there it clings firmly fast- 
ened to the brain, swaying about in sym- 
pathy with those other thoughts, whose 
right to remain securely anchored have 
been proved by their worth. Side by side 
with them is this other thought, although 
scarce worthy of so meaning a name ; more 
of a vague suggestion is it, until at last an- 
other thread reaches out in search of some 
support, and finding this loose, swaying 
end, clings fast to it and forms a perfect 



The Time is Now 

connection, the two fulfilling their destiny 
and proving their right to recognition, 
their special use, and their own particular 
place in fitting in with the general scheme. 
Nearly all thoughts are filmy embryos 
at first, rarely do they spring from the 
brain full grown, like Minerva from the 
head of Jupiter, but are the consequence 
of a series of ideas, one evolved from an- 
other, gaining meaning as they approach 
maturity. 

¥¥¥ 

THE TIME IS NOW 

In reply to the inquiries of his friends 
as to why he did not give to the world the 
results of his earnest thoughts and studies, 
Joubert's answer was, "It is not yet time." 
And again, after the years had passed and 
still his pen remained inactive, his reply to 
the same question was, "The time has 
passed." So it is with many lives, they 
mean to do, the desire is there, — a desire 
which is at some time in some vague way 
to be fulfilled ; but they live on and on, 



Fireside Fancies 

and still they feel it is not yet time, until all 
at once they are shocked by the realization 
that the time is past, — it is too late. 

One reason for letting the hours slip by 
so unprofitably is the fear of failing in an 
undertaking, the feeling that rather than 
make only a partial success it were better 
to let the opportunity go entirely. But 
surely it is better to fail from excess of 
courage than from lack of it. All begin- 
nings must necessarily be imperfect, that 
is inevitable, so why let the fact discourage 
one from further effort ? It should be an in- 
centive to try again and yet again, profiting 
by each mistake until at last something is 
accomplished worthy of recognition. Each 
step makes the next one easier and the 
goal just that much nearer. No one 
should permit the thought to take root 
that it is not yet time, for it is always the 
right time to make use of the one or the 
ten talents possessed. Unless used and 
so multiplied they are worse than wasted. 
It is a positive crime to possess and yet 
ignore and trample underfoot the ability 
that might be so productive of good. 



The Time is Now 

Thank God for the one talent, however 
small ; cultivate it and make much of it, 
for so only will it increase, bringing a rich 
compensation. 

It is childish to cry aloud in anger and 
despair, because only one talent has been 
given it is useless to try and make any- 
thing of it. It is such as these who prove 
themselves unworthy of even the smallest 
gift ; they let the days go, and as each one 
passes their faculties become rusty from 
disuse and incapable of effort. Presently 
the time comes when sorely against their 
wills they are forced to say with Joubert it 
is too late, the time has passed. 

There is a whole world of pathos in 
those few words. They tell of a life that 
has meant well, but of indecision and 
doubt ; of a desire to begin some real 
work, of a longing for some tangible object 
in life, of the many beginnings which have 
all fallen short of fulfilment. They tell of 
the talent hidden in the napkin and buried. 

The destiny of the human race is with- 
out doubt the perfect man. But how 
attain such lofty heights? There is but 
23 



Fireside Fancies 

one way. By using and using wisely the 
faculties born of intelligence. By being 
satisfied with small beginnings, for so only 
can great ends be attained. To advance, 
to climb upward in safety must be by 
each step of the ladder, round by round. 
But man is ambitious. The top of the 
ladder does not seem very high, a short 
run and a quick jump should effect a foot- 
ing ; it takes too long and is too monoto- 
nous to climb up one step at a time. But 
it is only the patient climbers who remain 
at the top when it is once reached. Occa- 
sionally the impatient ones do reach the 
top, but how long do they remain there ? 
Dazzled by the success of their experiment, 
they ignore all the laws which are meant 
for ordinary mortals, look upon themselves 
as demigods, and act accordingly. The 
fall that follows is, indeed, crushing and 
terrible. Witness, for example, Napoleon. 
Did those few brilliant years of camp and 
court life compensate him for the weary 
hours of mental and physical suffering he 
passed on his island prison ? 

Slowly and surely doing whatever comes 
24 



The Time is Now 

next is a safeguard for all lives. So only 
can they get the training which makes 
them capable of action and worthy to 
sustain power when the time comes. Pro- 
ficiency in little things make great achieve- 
ments possible. 

But to be always putting things off To 
be saying with Talleyrand never do to-day 
what can be put off till to-morrow is to 
dwarf the mentally, 'and put a clog on the 
wheels of time. Talleyrand was disap- 
pointed and embittered, and showed the 
littleness of his nature by warping and 
distorting his naturally great abilities. 
His moral sense was out of tune. 

It is not always easy to do with undis- 
turbed serenity that which comes next, to 
try and weave a smooth web from a 
tangled thread. But the skein of life is 
full of knots that only the utmost patience 
can untie. Too much luxury and ease 
enfeeble the mind as well as the body. 
To be strong and vigorous there must be 
exercise for both brain and muscle. The 
body cannot be strong unless nerves and 
tissues are in good condition, neither can 
25 



Fireside Fancies 

the mind be in a fit state to cope with 
problems unless it has accustomed itself 
from constant practice to weigh and con- 
sider carefully each action, each question, 
not only as it relates to itself but to the 
world at large, for the radiation of a 
thought is like that made by a pebble fall- 
ing in the water. No one can suffer alone. 
Our lives are so closely blended with those 
of others that what affects one must in a 
measure affect all. The egoist becomes a 
stumbling-block in the path of many. 
In reading the biographies of those who 
have become famous one is made to realize 
his own littleness ; to appreciate the fact 
that his sufferings are but the common lot 
of all. In the quick poignancy of our 
misery we are apt to think that we alone 
have burdens too heavy to be borne, 
while others are gay, happy, and success- 
ful. We are, the most of us, so wrapt up 
in our own personality that we do not 
give half recognition to that of others. 

Because others have been successful we 
allow ourselves to be discouraged, and to 
think the gayety and happiness is all for 
26 



The Time is Now 

them, with no prospect of any for our- 
selves. 

But underneath and back of the gayety 
and happiness in what the world calls suc- 
cess there too often lurks the sting of un- 
fulfilled desire, a grief at being unable to 
accomplish that which is nearest the heart. 

Of the men and women of whom we are 
one we see but the outside, their surface 
selves, the accomplished result. That which 
cannot be seen, and is only dimly guessed 
at, is the inner life with its many struggles. 
Of the failure after failure, of the bitter- 
ness of defeat which well-nigh causes them 
to give up the battle, we know nothing. 
But the really earnest worker will not ac- 
knowledge defeat. From his very failures 
he reaps the experience that at last brings 
success, that success which the world sees 
and applauds and thinks in its ignorance is 
easily won. 

Many are the silent tragedies enacted 
in the helpless almost hopeless battling 
with self and circumstances. But this is 
the side of success the world knows noth- 
ing of. 

27 



Fireside Fancies 

When defeat and despair are forever 
staring us out of countenance it is hard 
indeed to foster the least spark of courage. 
But 

" Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime, 
And departing leave behind us 
Footprints on the sands of time. ' ' 

When we read of their brave struggles 
with hardships, of the poverty and disease 
which many of them had to encounter, it 
gives us the courage to emulate their ex- 
ample, to try if we too cannot leave foot- 
prints on the sands of time. They sur- 
mounted difficulty after difficulty, and by 
sheer determination and force of character 
were able to rise above circumstances and 
make for themselves name and place in the 
annals of history. By their own misfor- 
tunes they were able to appreciate the 
needs of others and to do their share in 
the world's work in the sphere opened to 
them. They became what they were be- 
cause they preferred to be themselves at 
whatever cost rather than a more or less 
good imitation of some one else. 
28 



Stability of Character 

Each one is but a unit in this mighty 
universe. Much of the trouble in life 
comes from a failure to realize this fact, 
but to think instead his own particular self 
is or ought to be the axis around which 
his own particular world should revolve. 

There is but one axis, and God that one. 
We are the spokes in the wheel of time. 
While we fill our place with patience and 
unswerving fidelity all is well. But if we 
are weak and faltering the whole structure 
is affected by our indecision and want of 
stability. Chaos must result. 

And so the time to think and act is al- 
ways now, this very hour, this very minute ; 
to-morrow it may be too late. 

¥¥¥ 

STABILITY OF CHARACTER 

The old saying, a rolling stone gathers 
no moss, although trite, is true enough to 
bear endless repetition. 

Think well, choose carefully, then stick, 
is the secret of success. To do that re- 
29 



Fireside Fancies 

quires that stability of character which 
might surely be ranked among the car- 
dinal virtues. Without it one rarely ac- 
quires a secure position. Vacillation por- 
trays a weakness that is apt to bring ruin, 
both moral and financial, in its train. 

The man who tries one thing after an- 
other, leaving each because all is not just 
according to his fancy, soon becomes a 
rolling stone. As the years pass he will 
find it harder and harder to adapt him- 
self to circumstances and, what will prove 
more trying still, to a subordinate position, 
for that is all he can expect or command 
until he has made himself competent to 
fill one of trust 

There are comparatively few utterly de- 
void of ambition and of ability more or 
less marked in some direction. To be 
successful it is necessary to begin the cul- 
tivation of that ability at the very start 
and to continue it whenever and wherever 
opportunity offers. For seldom is great- 
ness thrust upon one, and when it is, it is 
a short-lived glory not always desirable. 
To be great requires industry, and above 
3° 



Stability of Character 

all perseverance. Without stability of 
character the one is as impossible as the 
other. 

There is a class of uncertain individuals 
who never know their own minds for five 
minutes consecutively ; to be obliged to be 
with them is absolutely maddening, one 
never knows what to expect, for they are 
merely an echo of the last speaker. There 
is such a comfortable feeling of security in 
turning to one whose opinions and advice 
are worth something, because never given 
without first being carefully considered. 
The first step toward success lies in the 
formation of a firm, independent individu- 
ality ; unless the firmness degenerates into 
what is commonly known as pig-headed- 
ness, the holder will find many prizes 
awaiting him on his journey through life, 
and life itself will mean more to him, his 
outlook will be broader, freer, hemmed in 
by none of the petty fears that beset the 
path of a weaker character. 

A steady perseverance in the line of 
work chosen is sure to bring some measure 
of success. It is the only possible way to 
31 



Fireside Fancies 

attain it. That goal is reached only by 
going straight ahead, turning neither to 
the right nor to the left. No man's life is 
long enough to traverse three or four dif- 
ferent ways, even although a fair promise 
of success, luring him on, may lie at the 
end of each. One only can be gone over, 
and by hesitating too long which one to 
select the traveller will be apt to find him- 
self in the same predicament as was 
"B'rer Fox" in regard to the barbecues. 

The world is so full of beautiful and in- 
teresting things that there is absolutely no 
excuse for any one living an entirely aim- 
less existence. Among so much, some- 
thing surely could be found that would 
prove of paramount interest to each indi- 
vidual, the pursuit of which would add 
zest to life. Few minds are wholly vac- 
uous. Not many feel that living means 
only a passing of time, days to be gotten 
through some way. For most " life is 
real, life is earnest ;" considered in that 
way it has many good things to offer. But 
for the lazy idler it means little, because of 
the fact that he is a lazy idler. While he 
32 



Stability of Character 

remains such it will never mean anything 
more. But let him realize he is a man, 
firm in strength to meet and overcome ob- 
stacles rather than be overcome by them, 
and matters will soon assume a different 
aspect. He will then feel himself a man 
among men, which is much more con- 
ducive to self-respect than to be forced to 
feel one's self a pigmy among giants. 

Firmness is one thing, obstinacy quite 
another ; it is right and just to hold to 
one's own opinions, but the mistake is so 
often made in thinking that because they 
are one's own they must necessarily be 
correct. First be very sure they are right, 
then stick to them, allowing others a like 
privilege. 

It is a very easy matter to fall into any 
habit, and the possessors of strong, decided 
wills are apt to become arbitrary. What 
they think and say must be accepted as 
final. They allow no discussion concern- 
ing it. It is probably an unconscious habit 
at first, but it grows with startling rapidity 
and soon becomes a grievous fault. Every 
one should have the right to give expres- 
3 33 



Fireside Fancies 

sion to his own ideas, whether right or 
wrong ; if a reasonable being, he is open to 
conviction ; if not, if he be one of those men 
who holds to his own opinions though the 
skies fall, argument is of no avail, they 
are not of sufficient importance for any 
one to take the time to attempt to combat 
them. But for all the fine disregard we 
would like to show they are absolutely 
exasperating, these people ! We are too 
human yet not to feel the sting of being 
calmly set aside and ignored. 

To always agree would be dreadfully 
monotonous. A good-natured argument 
is both instructive and interesting ; the 
point of view seldom being the same in 
any two cases, a comparison of ideas fol- 
lows from which much may be gained. 
The method of instruction used by the 
early sages partook more of the form of 
argument than of a discourse. To be 
effective an argument must be just and 
carried on without loss of temper. The 
most brilliant speaker becomes weak when 
once he loses his self-control. Cicero was 
the most wonderful orator of his time so 
34 



Stability of Character 

long as he said what he liked without in- 
terruption or interference, but the moment 
any one presumed to differ with him he 
lost his greatness because he lost his tem- 
per. No one can be truly great who does 
not respect the rights of others. To be 
master of one's self is to be master of the 
world, because it means the ability backed 
by the desire to overcome difficulties. 

A man is seldom so unfortunate as to be 
hampered all his life with unsurmountable 
obstacles. If he has it in him he must and 
will rise to whatever heights he is capable 
of holding. In the beginning all doors 
are open to him, what he becomes he 
makes himself. Emerson has said, " Na- 
ture arms each man with some faculty 
which enables him to do easily some feat 
impossible to any other, and thus makes 
him necessary to society." Not many real- 
ize how true this is ; because this something 
seems small and insignificant it may be 
thrust aside as not worth the doing, whereas 
it is the little things that have so much to 
do with the comfort of one's surroundings ; 
these seeming nothings smooth and polish 
35 



Fireside Fancies 

off the rough surfaces and jagged corners. 
If more attention were paid to rounding 
off these corners and less to making them 
prominent, many hurts would be avoided. 
But nearly every one wants to lead, and as 
a consequence many are injured in the mad 
race to get ahead. It is just as impossible 
for every one to be first as for all to be last. 
The line lengthens out indefinitely with a 
place for all, giving plenty of room for free 
movement. In all times and in all places 
it has been the survival of the fittest. 
Whatsoever place a man is capable of 
filling, it is there waiting for him to step 
into without the necessity of any being 
pushed aside. There is room for all in 
the front ranks, which are not so well 
filled as are some others. 

*¥¥ 

ADAPTABILITY 

To adapt one's self to circumstances 
gracefully is a most desirable faculty to 
possess, but it must be confessed it is rather 
36 



Adaptability 

a rare gift. To accept the position in which 
one is placed, making the best of it and 
the most of it, is a much easier way out of 
a difficulty than to sink down in despair 
with a thoroughly discouraged can't help 
air. It may be bad, very bad, indeed, but, 
as a rule, it might be worse. To consider 
it in this light does much to remove bar- 
riers and bring about a better condition of 
things. But troubles and annoyances have 
a way of magnifying if they meet with the 
least bit of encouragement that soon heap 
up mountains in the paths of all who do 
not set to work earnestly to overcome 
them. 

God meant every one to be happy and 
healthful both in mind and body. When 
troubles come through our own indiscre- 
tions or from other causes, He did not 
mean that we should entirely succumb to 
them and let them darken our lives for all 
time. But to all human beings He has 
given reason and intelligence to enable 
them to cope with the difficulties and 
problems by which they have surrounded 
themselves. 

37 



Fireside Fancies 

God gave to us all intelligence, 

And meant us to use it aright, 
To ennoble the world we live in, 

To bring out of the darkness — light. 

He fashioned men in his own likeness, 
Meaning them to be Godlike too. 

Not selfish and sordid and wicked, 
But honest and noble and true. 

And so, having been endowed with the 
divine faculty of intellect, we are in duty 
bound to exert it for our own benefit as 
well as for others. 

If things always went right and one had 
everything one wanted, life would very 
soon become monotonous. A desire grati- 
fied as soon as expressed gives, as a rule, 
very little pleasure. We are so constituted 
that in order to properly value a thing the 
possession of it must be hedged around 
with difficulties. 

People surrounded by every luxury, 
living the lives of petted exotics, are not 
the fortunate individuals they are popularly 
supposed to be ; quite the reverse, indeed, 
for they are not fulfilling their destinies or 
using their God-given faculties. They are 
38 



Adaptability 

rusting out and losing half the zest of 
living. Many people have never been 
guilty of one useful action in all their 
lives. Not that they are incompetent or 
unwilling, only nothing has ever been de- 
manded or expected of them, and so it 
does not occur to them that it might be 
desirable to take some active part in this 
work-a-day world. Sometimes these ap- 
parently useless creatures are made to 
realize what an objectless existence they 
are leading, and in consequence astonish 
their friends with their ability to do for 
themselves and others. Before, their 
faculties were lying dormant and be- 
coming clogged from disuse. 

In this busy world of ups and downs one 
must be up and doing if he wishes to 
swim with the tide, for the drones go 
down and are soon swept under ; even the 
eddy they make in sinking is but for a 
moment. 

Too much luxury is enervating and pro- 
duces a sybarite. A moderate amount is, 
on the contrary, helpful and refining. It 
must be easier to have beautiful thoughts 
39 



Fireside Fancies 

and encourage high aspirations amid at- 
tractive surroundings than where all is 
wretchedness and poverty, although it 
must be acknowledged some of the 
grandest philosophy of living has come 
to us from the bare cells of self-imposed 
poverty. 

But the nineteenth century has out- 
grown self-inflicted trials. The philoso- 
pher of to-day can live a much fuller and 
rounder existence by living the life of a 
gentleman and a man of the world, where 
his influence and ideas can extend to the 
many instead of being confined to a fa- 
vored few. An honorable man who leads 
a consistent life does far greater good 
in this day than did ever Diogenes in 
his tub, the walls of which were too con- 
fined to allow the rays of his lantern to 
penetrate far enough into the gloom for 
him to find that honest man for whom he 
was so long searching. Had he oftener 
stepped out from his narrow quarters and 
given to his world the example of an 
honest man, he might sooner have found 
another. 

40 



Individual Influence 



INDIVIDUAL INFLUENCE 

It is a wonderful thing to think of and 
should give one a feeling of heavy re- 
sponsibility to know that as we individu- 
ally live we help to make the world what 
it is. 

As we mould our characters so are our 
immediate surroundings colored, and that 
coloring extends much farther afield than 
we have any idea ; and as a matter of 
course the stronger and more pronounced 
the characteristics the farther is the influ- 
ence felt Could we but keep in mind 
these few words so fraught with meaning 
for ourselves and others : " Nor knowest 
thou what argument thy life to thy neigh- 
bor's creed has lent !" Only a few words, 
but like many another sentence from Em- 
erson's pen they convey a meaning to live 
by. 

No one is so insignificant but some at- 
mosphere surrounds him. 
41 



Fireside Fancies 

Can it be expected that our children 
will be capable of exerting a wise and just 
influence upon the world when their time 
comes unless we set them the example? 
For many years they are mere parrots, 
copying the ways of their elders. By the 
time they have arrived at an age to think 
for themselves their habits are formed, and 
they seldom change them to any great 
extent. The foundation once laid, the 
shape and style of the subsequent structure 
must retain virtually the same form to the 
end. Laying the foundation of a human 
life is the most important epoch in its 
career. 

It is we who are the makers of the 
history of to-day. Yet it is to be feared 
many would be sorry to read the record, 
if, indeed, they recognized it as of their own 
making. For, after all, a great part of the 
failings of humanity are due to thought- 
lessness ; a hasty word or an unwise act 
may be followed by the most dire results, 
the consequences of which may be the 
undoing of more than one life. 

It is not expected that any one should 
42 



Individual Influence 

be perfect, but every one has a right to 
expect thoughtfulness and consideration 
on the part of others. That is an impera- 
tive duty each individual owes to the world 
at large, for the influence that is a part 
of every human being is something very 
real and an unconscious element in the 
lives of all with whom they are thrown. 
Qualities to be admired and emulated 
or guarded against are met with almost 
hourly. 

The world is such a rushing, driving, 
busy place that few seem to have time, 
or perhaps will not take it, to make indi- 
viduals of themselves, but would seem to 
be satisfied with being one of the people, 
thinking little as to which way the tide is 
carrying them. Or it may be that the 
majority are so interested in their own 
personality that they do not quite try to 
understand that of others ; this uncon- 
scious egotism making them the all-im- 
portant subject. Because their affairs are 
of vital moment to themselves they, with- 
out exactly meaning to do so, demand a 
like interest from others. What we think 
43 



Fireside Fancies 

and what we do affects not only ourselves, 
but every one with whom we come in touch. 
The individuality of a person is evident 
without verbal utterance. 

It is a privilege, indeed, to meet a person 
whose good breeding is shown in every 
word and glance, whose effort is not to 
dazzle by his own superior attainments but 
to encourage and draw out the best in his 
companion ; they inspire one with con- 
fidence in one's own abilities and suggest 
thoughts worth something. Having some 
definite aim in life, their individuality is 
decided. Such people are like a tonic, 
rousing all the sleeping energy of one's 
nature, and for a time at least make one 
long to be up and doing, — yes, and some- 
thing worth the doing, too. 

True refinement makes itself felt amid 
any surroundings, and is accorded due 
recognition. Such a one does not need 
to herald his accomplishments, whatever 
they may be ; they are evident only at such 
times when it is desirable they should be. 
Loud and boisterous behavior stamps the 
actor as innately vulgar, no matter in what 
44 



Individual Influence 

sphere of life he may belong. The con- 
tinual placing of one's self en evidence is 
essentially ill-bred, and must denote a shal- 
low nature. 

The influence that makes itself felt rather 
than heard is the more effective of the two. 
The unspoken word, the look or action so 
filled with meaning, will carry greater weight 
than the most long-winded argument on 
the error of one's ways, for that only serves 
to antagonize and to confirm one in his 
own views more strongly than ever. The 
spirit of contradiction latent in every na- 
ture is immediately brought to the surface. 
The more didactic the discourse becomes 
the greater grows the belief as to the op- 
ponent's mistaken judgment. Little or no 
good, results ; the reverse is more apt to be 
the case. 

There are people whose attitude toward 
mankind in general is one of defence ; with 
such it is well-nigh impossible to avoid con- 
flict ; they unconsciously approach every 
one from that stand-point, and as one 
quickly feels the influence of another per- 
sonality he at once becomes self-assertive, 
45 



Fireside Fancies 

and to be on the defensive is necessarily 
to be at a disadvantage. Argumentative 
people are to be dreaded for more reasons 
than one. They do an immense amount of 
harm. If one is always on the lookout for 
the seamy side in human nature he is pretty 
apt to find it. It is expecting the worst 
that has much to do with the downward 
career of man. One false step, and the 
community is ever ready to give him an 
onward push. Perhaps a helping hand 
held out to offer a moral support would 
save much future crime. There need be 
no fear of contamination ; it is only the 
weak who are easily swayed. But with 
every man's hand against them it is little 
wonder these unfortunates so soon become 
desperate outcasts, showing no mercy, hav- 
ing no pity. From their stand-point why 
should they? Was any mercy shown 
them? It is man's inhumanity to man 
that has made them what they are. 



46 



True to One's Self 



TRUE TO ONE'S SELF 

" Be true to thyself." Years ago our 
tender poet, Longfellow, wrote these words 
to his German friend Freiligrath. It is a 
watchword that might well be engraven 
on the heart of every man and woman. 
Ay, be true to thyself, and let thy watch- 
fire burn clear and bright, lighting thee 
and many another by its pure glow to a 
safe haven at last. 

True to one's self! it seems a simple 
thing, yet of how many can it be truth- 
fully said that they are true to themselves, 
true to their convictions at all costs ! It 
is never pleasant to be in the minority, 
and requires real moral courage to espouse 
the unpopular side even when convinced 
of its righteousness. It is far easier to 
say nothing than to oppose the multitude. 

But how would evils ever be righted un- 
less some one was found to champion the 
cause and stand firm in his belief and to 
set the ball rolling? Like the one of snow, 
47 



Fireside Fancies 

it gathers volume as it rolls, and finally at- 
tains proportions vast enough to annihilate 
opposing forces. It cannot be denied that 
reformers frequently become fanatics, but 
the ultimate result of their fanaticism is 
good. All reforms must be evolved from 
extremes. History gives many terrible 
examples of what it meant in early times 
to be true to one's self. But, thank God ! 
such dastardly crimes are no more, but are 
gone with the only too recent years when 
man took a grim pleasure in seeing his 
fellow-man stretched upon the rack or 
torn limb from limb because, forsooth, 
opinions differed. Now man may be true 
to himself without incurring any more 
serious consequences than the disappro- 
bation or possible censure of others, — 
surely nothing very terrible in itself, and 
easily borne if one feels assured he is in the 
right. 

One of the existing evils of this age, 
perhaps of all ages, has been lack of pur- 
pose. A few there are with a definite goal. 
Their whole lives, every action, centres at 
one point. But the majority do as others 
48 



True to One's Self 

do, drift as the stream carries them. It is 
much easier and pleasanter, and requires 
very little mental exertion. 

Many a long day will have passed away, 
many a nation be gathered to its fathers, 
before the world is composed of individ- 
uals with sufficient moral courage and 
mental stamina to stand alone, when each 
one shall be the product of his own in- 
dividuality, to whom these lines can no 
longer be applied with any degree of 
truth : 

" And we have been on many thousand lines, 
And we have shown on each talent and power, 
But hardly have we, for one little hour, 
Been on our own line, have we been ourselves ; 
Hardly had skill to utter one of all 
The nameless feelings that course through our breast, 
But they course on forever unexpressed. 
And long we try in vain to speak and act 
Our hidden self, and what we say and do 
Is eloquent, is well — but 'tis not true." 

And again the same poet says, — 

" I knew the mass of men concealed 
Their thoughts, for fear that if revealed 
They would by other men be met 
4 49 



Fireside Fancies 

With blank indifference or with blame reproved ; 

I knew they lived and moved 

Tricked in disguises alien to the rest 

Of men and alien to themselves — and yet 

The same heart beats in every human breast." 

Alas ! that it should be so that the real 
and the true is constantly being withheld 
because of the fear of being misunder- 
stood, and that very fear is often the cause 
of bringing about just what we have been 
trying to avoid. Often we are thought 
heartless and indifferent because we have 
been unwilling or unable to express our 
real feelings, and the true sympathy that 
animates our hearts. From timidity or 
indifference we permit others to form a 
very unjust estimate of our characters. 

To be true to one's self and one's con- 
victions includes the rather paradoxical 
meaning of giving up and accepting — 
tacitly, at least — the opinions of some one 
else, for to stick doggedly to one idea, 
ignoring the same right to others, is only 
to harm the cause, whereas sometimes a 
partial acceptance of another's theories 
brings about a most amicable understand- 
50 



True to One's Self 

ing in the end, and in many cases the 
premise will be found to have been the 
same, only so differently clothed that rec- 
ognition at first sight was impossible. 

Why stick stubbornly to one course 
when it makes absolutely no difference in 
the universe whether it shall be one way 
or another, or indeed, very often, whether 
it shall be at all? Such a character is 
simply an epitome of obstinacy and con- 
summate selfishness. That is not being 
true to one's self, but is merely a determi- 
nation to have one's own way at all costs. 

To be mentally true, morally true, is 
humanizing and refining to a greater ex- 
tent than any other one thing. It is one 
of the most important elements in the 
progress of the world and in the evolution 
of society. It does away with apathy and 
promotes vitality ; in a word, it creates the 
thinking man out of the animal man. 

Truth, they say, is found at the bottom 
of a well. Why not on the surface? 
People are too busy to stop and dredge for 
a commodity that should be the hourly 
need of every community. But while man 
5i 



Fireside Fancies 

continues to exercise all his ingenuity in 
trying to outwit his neighbor it goes with- 
out saying that the neighbor needs watch- 
ing. If there was a little less scheming 
and a little more honesty the result would 
be an immense gain in every department 
of home, state, and nation, the saving of 
monetary expense to city and government 
would soon amount to enough to pay off 
the national debt, while the saving of moral 
and mental expense would prove a far more 
valuable boon to mankind. But while 
every man is obliged to suspect his brother, 
he has very little time left to cultivate a 
better side to his nature. To live in ac- 
cord with the golden rule does sound ex- 
tremely Utopian, but it certainly would 
save a great deal of trouble. 



52 



Friendship 



FRIENDSHIP 

The term friend is one of the most fre- 
quently misapplied words in use. While 
one is often attracted toward others, en- 
joys their society, may even like to see 
them daily, one does not in the least feel for 
them that deeper sensation caused by the 
sacred tie that binds two lives together in 
real friendship. That is something quite 
different from the feeling experienced for 
the host of people generally designated by 
that title, — people whose companionship is 
a pleasure, for they are bright, charming, 
witty, and interesting, much more attractive 
to all outward appearances than the few 
whom we have taken into our hearts and 
for whom we feel a real friendship. Just 
why it is we love them it is hard to say ; it 
is not for any particular qualities easy to 
name. They may not have any of the 
attributes that would seem to fit into and 
form a complement to our own nature. 
All we know or can say is, that we do love 
53 



Fireside Fancies 

them. They give to us a something im- 
possible to describe, but satisfying and 
restful to receive. 

Between friends of this kind is that per- 
fect understanding that renders words un- 
necessary in times of intense feeling, of 
deep emotion. There is an unspoken sym- 
pathy and understanding of the other's 
mood. 

Such a friendship is indeed rare, but the 
possession is priceless. A friend is as jeal- 
ous of our honor as we ourselves. With 
him conversation is more natural than with 
others because of the assurance of being 
understood, and the fear of a wrong con- 
struction being put upon a thoughtless 
word or action is entirely done away with ; 
no repetition of our words by a friend will 
place us in a false light with others. 

They say marriages are made in heaven ; 
if that is so then friendships must be formed 
just outside the gates. 

History gives many instances of this tie 

between man and man, woman and woman, 

and man and woman. In the life of the 

ordinary mortal, hemmed around by con- 

54 



Friendship 

ventionalities, the latter is so rare as to be 
almost unique, yet of them all is the most 
satisfying ; because of the contrast between 
the two natures they have more to give 
each other. 

It is difficult to keep a friendship of this 
kind, because there is always some one to 
place a wrong construction upon it, to in- 
dulge in covert sneers and innuendoes, to 
affirm the impossibility of such a thing 
existing, and for them it could not exist. 
The very fact of their doubting the purity 
of the motive proves that for them it would 
be impossible. They naturally judge from 
their own stand-point. As a matter of 
course, such unkind criticism does much 
toward marring the pleasure of the inter- 
course, and is almost sure in time to bring 
about a rupture, thus robbing two lives of 
much innocent happiness and mutual aid. 
If let alone they would have rounded out 
each other's existence without wronging any 
one. No one can appreciate how much 
such a friendship means unless it has at one 
time become a part of his life, nor how 
keen the sorrow over the unnecessary loss. 
55 



Fireside Fancies 

Unkind slurs are forever being cast upon 
these and all other true comradeships. Be- 
tween man and man they wonder what it 
is he is trying to gain, between woman 
and woman what can be her object, but 
between man and woman there is but one 
cruel verdict. Such remarks come only 
from those who have never known what 
true friendship means ; from those who 
from their own experience realize how 
much comfort and happiness it brings 
come only sympathetic thoughts and joy 
that to another also has come this great 
blessing. 

One does not admit many such to the 
inner recesses of the heart, three or four at 
the most, perhaps only one, but for all the 
world is an added tenderness because of 
these quiet friendships that tranquillize and 
soothe by their very existence. 

Close and frequent intercourse is not at 
all necessary to keep alive this feeling. It 
does not have to be fanned into a flame 
by constant assurance that it still exists. 
Once born it endures for all time. No 
matter how seldom the interviews, friends 
56 



Friendship 

will always meet on the same ground, — 
true till the end. 

Hasty friendships, so called, often end 
in disaster and sorrow. Real friendship 
can come only after years of intercourse, 
mutual respect, and a more perfect un- 
derstanding of the other's character ; 
formed on so firm a basis the tie is rarely 
shattered. Quick intimacies are as unsatis- 
factory as they are unwise, it is much easier 
to form than to break them, and when 
broken some one is sure to be hurt or 
angry, disappointment and bitter feelings 
ensue. But these are not friendships, they 
are the natural result of a thoughtless 
compact. 

Brightness and vivacity attract, may even 
hold for a time, but something more is 
needed to bind two lives together. For 
the more serious-minded, for those who 
look upon life as something more than the 
passing of the show, it is not easy to open 
the heart and share their inner thoughts 
with another ; even to those nearest we 
cannot give quite all our confidence, some 
thoughts are for ourselves alone, they are 
57 



Fireside Fancies 

felt but never expressed. But it means 
something worth striving for to gain the 
love and esteem of men or women who 
feel their individuality, to whom the cogito 
ergo sum carries a command to use the 
faculties given them and to bring them to 
their highest meaning. 

Man is a social animal, never at his best 
alone ; he needs the sympathetic friction of 
another mind to develop and bring to 
fruition the possibilities of his nature. 

Many become harsh and outwardly dis- 
agreeable because they have not been 
willing, or it may be they have not been 
able, to let the real beauty of their char- 
acter show itself. Either from timidity or 
from too low an estimate of their own 
worth they permit others to misunderstand 
and misjudge them cruelly. They suffer 
keenly from the false position they are 
forced to occupy, yet are powerless to 
change it, because they shrink from every- 
thing that would savor of a demand for 
recognition not willingly offered. And so 
they bear to the end their burden of dreary 
loneliness. All their lives they have been 
58 



Ambition 

waiting, longing for the coming of a friend 
to inspire them with faith, love, and con- 
fidence, and a belief in their own capa- 
bilities. 

*** 

AMBITION 

" Men and women make sad mistakes 
about their own symptoms, taking their 
vague uneasy longings sometimes for 
genius, sometimes for religion and oftener 
still for a mighty love." 

It is, indeed, a sad condition to be in, 
this transitory state of unsettled longing. 
The desire to do and to be more than we 
at present are, not knowing just what it is 
we do want or what we are capable of 
doing. Most of us are ambitious, but am- 
bitious for what? That what is just the 
thing we do not know, the rock on which 
so many come to grief. 

If there were no ambition the age of 
progress would cease, the world would re- 
main where it is, or, more likely still, retro- 
grade. 

59 



Fireside Fancies 

It is ambition rightly directed that brings 
benefits to mankind. But prior to the 
steady working out of a train of ideas, is 
the season of discontent, of striving, long- 
ing after an intangible something ; in that 
time of ignorance lies the danger of wreck- 
ing one's life by misdirecting the faculties. 

No one can do good and efficient work 
unless his whole heart is in that work. 
Much valuable force has been wasted by 
wrongly directed energy. 

Without ambition life is colorless, and 
yet, perhaps, as far as real content goes, 
people who are satisfied to remain as they 
are may be happier than their more am- 
bitious neighbors. But do they get as 
much out of life ? True ! ambitious 
people are seldom happy people ; but if 
their failures bring more grief, their suc- 
cesses bring in equal proportion more sat- 
isfaction, spurring them on to still greater 
efforts. 

Every one should have a career in life ; 

few things are more hopelessly depressing 

than an absolutely aimless existence ; the 

living from day to day with no thought, 

60 



Ambition 

no object ahead, is slow murder of brain 
and body. 

The career need not necessarily be one 
of a public nature, it need only be known 
and recognized by the individual interested. 
A course of study, either of books or of 
humanity, the cultivation of a talent or an 
effort to help along just one other human 
being. The calling need not be so great 
or so glorious that the world will look on 
and applaud. To few are given a genius 
that can command the admiration and 
respect of a people so hard to please in 
the way of greatness as are those of the 
present time ; we are used to wonders ; 
it takes a very marvel to attract unusual 
attention to-day. 

But whether the calling be great or 
small, let it be something, some object of 
paramount interest ; the days will seem 
shorter and pleasanter and life will have 
a zest quite unknown to those who live 
merely because they breathe and so are 
obliged to pass the hours in some way. 

It is the "vague uneasy longings" that 
bring such discomfort and sorrow. A 
61 



Fireside Fancies 

fixed purpose is the staff to rely upon to 
help us along over the stony road of am- 
bition. 

Men attribute these longings to a multi- 
tude of things ; with women the scope is 
narrower, generally confined to one of two 
things, love or religion, both dangerous, 
unless they are a natural part of one's life, 
developing without our being conscious 
that a foreign element is at work within 
us ; whichever one is rashly encouraged 
will be too apt to go to extremes, doing 
good to none and, it may be, harm to 
many. For the majority a normal state of 
existence is safest. 

Young people are oftenest the victims 
of these mysterious aspirations. They are 
overwhelmed with a feeling of unrest, a 
desire for something to which they cannot 
put a name. Life becomes humdrum and 
wearisome in its monotony until the some- 
thing takes form and becomes animated 
with life. 

This is a speculative age, and speculation 
is a dangerous play. Unless one has the 
desire backed by ability to start at the 
62 



Ambition 

very beginning and go clear through a 
subject, it is much wiser to keep aloof al- 
together, for 

" A little learning is a dangerous thing ; 
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring : 
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, 
And drinking largely sobers us again." 

Speculative philosophy as put forth in 
popular novels is responsible for much of 
the unrest found among the younger ele- 
ment. These half-propounded theories 
and vaguely suggested ideas do little harm 
to people of settled purpose, who have 
learned to think for themselves and reason 
out matters according to their own phi- 
losophy or orthodoxy ; but for the mind 
just learning to think, eager for new ideas, 
yet not capable of extracting the good 
from the bad, the right from the wrong, 
they are dangerous and unsettling, giving 
false ideas of life, clothing in mystery the 
simple beauty of living a Godlike life. To 
destroy a faith is only too easy, to restore 
it is next to impossible. But ambition can 
easily surmount the spirit of unrest im- 
planted by these or any other causes ; 
63 



Fireside Fancies 

honest, manly ambition can bring to us all 
life has to offer ; without it man is on a 
level with the beast ; with vices added he 
had better never have been. 

The ambition which crushes all in the 
way of its fulfilment, using its fellow-mortals 
merely as so many tools while they may 
serve its purpose, casting them aside as 
useless and troublesome incumbrances as 
soon as the end is gained, is an ambition 
unworthy the name, a misnomer ; call it 
rather a vanity, that is a more fitting term. 
No ambition is a worthy one unless the 
means employed to reach the end are 
strictly honorable. Men had better remain 
on the animal level, obscure but respected, 
rather than gain such dizzy heights where 
the world is looked down upon from the 
piled-up misery of humanity that has been 
trodden down in the pathway of the un- 
scrupulous aspirant for power. Such bril- 
liant comets as Napoleon leave mourning, 
desolation, and ruin in their track ; and all 
for the glory of one human atom. 

Power is a dangerous agent, few are wise 
enough to use it well. 
64 



The First Snow 



THE FIRST SNOW 

Few are utterly indifferent to the first 
snow-storm of the season. With most it 
causes a feeling of jollity and is suggestive 
of all sorts of pleasant things. 

Sleigh-bells tinkle in our ears, sleds go 
whizzing past our mental visions, snow- 
balls break with a gentle, almost caressing 
thud against our backs, skates skim along 
over the ice, cutting all sorts of fancy 
figures on its smooth surface. Christmas 
greens, bulging stockings, Santa Claus, 
candy-pulls, ghost stories told before the 
blazing logs while a gruesome blackness 
and silence pervade the rest of the room. 
Pumpkin-head lanterns and snow-men all 
jumbled together in one delightful confu- 
sion. All this is in the country, of course, 
where snow belongs. In the cities it is 
sadly out of place, a fact which it seems to 
realize, for it makes haste to disappear as 
quickly as possible. 

The first snow ! With what rapture it is 
5 65 



Fireside Fancies 

hailed by all the small men and women ! 
What frolics await them, mimic battles 
where the snow cannon-balls cause the air 
to vibrate with shouts of merriment rather 
than echo the groans of the dying which 
follow a volley of the sterner stuff! And 
then the sledding ! There is hardly a boy 
in the world but has something which by 
courtesy can be called a sled. What fun 
it is to glide along so smoothly over the 
hard, glistening roads pulled by the other 
fellow ! It will be your turn next to do the 
pulling, but never mind that, it is almost 
as much fun to pull as to be pulled, and 
very soon the long coasting hill will be 
reached where no motive power is needed ; 
one wee little push to the sled and off it 
goes, rushing headlong down the long, 
smooth track that stretches out safely be- 
fore it. To be sure, it is not quite so much 
fun to toil up again to the top as it is to 
glide so easily down to the bottom, and it 
takes about five times as long, for that 
swift descent is over almost before they 
realize it has begun. The ascent is labo- 
riously accomplished, two steps back for 
66 



The First Snow 

every one gained, but the summit is 
reached at last, and throwing themselves 
face downward on the gayly painted sleds, 
off they rush again, these happy, rosy, 
laughing boys and girls. They work hard, 
although they call it play, for they know 
this kind of fun will be over all too soon, 
for the snow has a way of vanishing that is 
most aggravating to country children, and 
they mean to make the most of it while it 
does last. 

And for the children of a larger growth it 
has its fascination also. How silently they 
fall, these tiny flakes of white, which mul- 
tiply so fast, soon covering trees, hedges, 
and lawns with a garment of softest down ! 
Not a sound to be heard, nature as well as 
man seems hushed into silence, gazing with 
awe upon this miracle which in a few short 
hours so changes the aspect of all things. 
Beautiful, spotlessly pure. Oh ! the pity 
of it that we become so accustomed to such 
sights that we look upon them with indif- 
ference or, worse still, grumble because it 
makes the walking bad. Put on high rub- 
ber shoes so you will not mind how deep 
67 



Fireside Fancies 

the snow is, and go out into it and feel the 
flakes against your cheek, watch the myriad 
forms they assume as for one instant they 
rest upon the black background your coat 
gives them. 

There is a sense of exhilaration about 
walking in a country snow-storm that to a 
lover of nature is positively intoxicating. 
Look at that sloping hill-side where the 
brown earth is fast disappearing under the 
fleecy covering, look at the trees as they 
stand outlined against this curtain of white 
with each branch and tiny twig so sharply 
defined, forming a very net-work of lace in 
their graceful tracery. The little stream 
below still ripples along in its course ; Jack 
Frost has not been abroad long enough 
yet to silence the music of its voice, but he 
soon will be, for he is drawing nearer and 
nearer, borne on by the fleet wings of the 
north wind, and soon the little stream will 
become a smooth mirror for nature to look 
upon and enjoy the reflection of her own 
beautiful self. 

But now the silent snow is turning into 
sharp little bits of sleet, and we are per- 
68 



The First Snow 

force obliged to hurry home, back to the 
cosey fireside. These stinging pin-pricks 
are very different from the tender, caress- 
ing kisses upon eyes, hair, and lips of the 
dainty, fairy snow. We shudder to think 
of the distance between here and the bright 
warmth that awaits us, and almost wish we 
had not come quite so far ; almost, but not 
quite, for the beauty and pleasure of the 
outward walk will more than compensate 
for the trudge back. 

And to-morrow, if the sun shines, a 
veritable fairy-land will surround us. Alad- 
din's palace with all its glittering jewels 
will sink into insignificance in comparison 
with this scene before us, every tree and 
bush, even the commonest fence-rail, will 
be glorified, covered with countless flashing 
diamonds, rubies, and sapphires, dancing, 
sparkling in the sunlight with a splendor 
too great for poor earthly eyes to en- 
dure. 

" For every shrub, and every blade of grass, 
And every pointed thorn seemed wrought in glass ; 
In pearls and rubies rich the hawthorns show, 
And through the ice the crimson berries glow ; 
69 



Fireside Fancies 

The thick-sprung reeds, which watery marshes yield, 

Seem polished lances in a hostile field ; 

The stag in limpid currents with surprise 

Sees crystal branches on his forehead rise ; 

The spreading oak, the beech, the towering pine, 

Glazed over in the freezing ether shine ; 

The frightened birds the rattling branches shun, 

Which wave and glitter in the distant sun, 

When, if a sudden gust of wind arise, 

The brittle forest into atoms flies, 

The crackling wood beneath the tempest bends, 

And in a spangled shower the prospect ends." 

¥¥¥ 

BOOKS 

What would humanity do without 
books, the source of so much knowledge, 
recreation, and pleasure ? 

From our first acquaintance with Mother 
Goose, whoever that world-famous lady was, 
— and it is not improbable that some day 
the investigating minds of the theorists may 
settle that question also for us as satisfac- 
torily as they have many another ; but be 
that as it may, all honor to her name, at 
one time in his life she has been the joy of 
every child's heart, and many a mother has 
70 



Books 

had cause to be thankful to her, — from 
our earliest knowledge of those charming 
nonsense rhymes, we pass through stage 
after stage in literature until the highest 
grade is reached, that being determined 
according to each individual capacity. 

In the choice of books for children one 
cannot be too particular, for when the 
mind is just opening it is most susceptible 
to impressions, and once received they are 
not easily effaced. To the juvenile mind 
the printed page is infallible, and carries 
far greater weight than do the same words 
spoken by parent or friend. Largely in ac- 
cordance with the books read is the mental 
growth. Particularly is this the case with 
those of vivid imaginations. Boys after 
reading tales of wild and heroic incidents 
are consumed with the desire to go out into 
the world in search of adventures, which 
are always to end in fame and a return at 
last loaded with riches and honors. A girl 
at the same period of her career reads 
sentimental novels, cries her eyes out over 
the tribulations and sorrows of the wishy- 
washy heroine ; mopes around the house 



Fireside Fancies 

for days looking woe-begone and dejected, 
and coaxes herself into the belief that her 
life is fearfully dull and prosaic, and that 
she is not understood by her family, who 
cannot appreciate the supersensitive refine- 
ment of her nature. 

However, both boy and girl outgrow this 
class of literature, and in time look back 
with an indulgent smile over the follies of 
their youth. 

There are so many books and so short a 
time in which to read them, that it is well- 
nigh hopeless to decide which one of them 
all we most desire to take up next. It 
is literally an embarrassment of riches. 
Whatever the taste of the reader may be, 
there is a wide field from which to choose. 
To those already written many new ones 
are added, each month making the selec- 
tion a more and more difficult matter. 

Just at this time the socialistic novel 
(for so it might be ranked) claims the at- 
tention of many men of many minds. 
Each book of this sort deals more or less 
effectively with the all-engrossing topics of 
the day. Each one, it is to be supposed, 
72 



Books 

has some object in view, perhaps the right- 
ing of the wrong which has given a theme 
to the book ; but they are, as a rule, of a 
highly sensational character, and frequently 
run to such violent extremes that it is a 
question whether they even help to accom- 
plish the desired reform. For books, like 
people, must work slowly, with the greatest 
care, limitless patience, and infinite tact, 
in order to be able to overcome evil. 

With many of the younger element there 
is a growing tendency toward a more solid 
style of reading than the ordinary novel 
can furnish ; from it they turn to light es- 
says, books of travel, or to some of those 
delightful historical romances of which a 
past generation has made us heirs. 

But to become familiar with the master- 
minds of all ages requires preparation ; little 
by little the mind must be educated to be 
able to receive comprehensively what they 
have to give. One must have an under- 
standing of life and his own relation to the 
world at large. Not until then will the full 
meaning of such books be clear to him. 
That which before he was utterly unable 
73 



Fireside Fancies 

to understand he will now feast upon ; each 
sentence will open a new door in his mind. 

A volume filled with earnest thoughts 
and pure aspirations cannot fail to exert an 
unconscious influence for good over the 
most frivolous person. Some gain must 
follow. As the taste becomes educated the 
mental palate demands better and stronger 
food, until gradually it will assimilate only 
the best. When others fail us our books 
are the companions to whom we turn for 
comfort and consolation ; sure always of 
finding in them the same stanch, true 
friends. They amuse us when we are 
weary or dull, soothe us when troubled ; 
and often they offer some sound little bit 
of philosophy or advice that makes us 
ashamed of the weakness we have permit- 
ted to master us. With renewed courage 
come other and more successful efforts, 
the result of that trying again which has 
solved great problems and brought civiliza- 
tion to its present degree of enlightenment. 

For the stay-at-homes there is always a 
delightful pleasure in taking up a well- 
written volume of travels ; soon oblivious 
74 



Books 

to ail surroundings, to be transported hun- 
dreds of miles away, journeying through 
new regions, drinking in the marvellous 
creations of nature and enjoying the quaint 
sights and sounds of other nations. A 
book of this kind is next best to seeing 
and hearing with one's own eyes and ears. 
Without fatigue one is able to wander 
wherever the fancy wills, crossing oceans, 
climbing mountains, or creeping, scarce 
daring to breathe, along the jagged edge 
of some steep precipice. Or we are in 
flowery far-off Japan, gazing in delighted 
admiration at the odd, interesting life of 
these smiling, courteous people who have 
proved their ability in so many directions, 
and not least in their appreciation of the 
benefits to be derived from a civilization 
which can only be the result of a free 
and liberal education of men and women 
alike. 

And so we journey on and on, scaling 
the highest Alps or threading the dreary 
passages of the Catacombs, now and 
then running into some startling bit of 
history which makes us shudder with 
75 



Fireside Fancies 

horror and turn the page hastily on the 
recital of man's deeds of wickedness and 
tyranny which for the self-glory of one 
individual has caused the misery of whole 
nations. 

Were it not for books how little any one 
could know in one short lifetime about this 
wonderful world and wonderful time in 
which we live ! As long ago as 1344 
Richard de Bury, Bishop of Durham, said 
of them, "They are the masters who in- 
struct us without rods and ferules, with- 
out clothes or money. If you approach 
them, they are not asleep ; if investigating 
you interrogate them, they conceal noth- 
ing ; if you mistake them, they never 
grumble ; if you are ignorant, they cannot 
laugh at you. The library, therefore, of 
wisdom is more precious than all riches, 
and nothing that can be wished for is 
worthy to be compared with it." If this 
were true more than five centuries ago, 
what an infinitely greater weight the same 
truth carries to-day ! A quarter of the 
Christian era lies between the time the 
good bishop lived and wrote and we who 
76 



Books 

have such easy access to all the learning 
that came before and has become a part 
of the earth's heritage since. How mea- 
gre must his library have been, even with 
all its beautifully illuminated manuscripts, 
in comparison with our own well-filled 
shelves ! 

It would be impossible now to realize a 
time when there was no Shakespeare, no 
Milton, no Scott, no Dickens, and dozens 
of others whose names are on the lips of 
every child. Few of the humblest homes 
are without these household gods. Their 
characters are better known and almost as 
real as the more substantial men and 
women of flesh and blood who, known to- 
day are forgotten to-morrow, but they, like 
the gods of old, are immortal. Who could 
imagine a Rosalind or a Juliet grown old 
and feeble, indifferent alike to love and 
all that makes life worth living? Does 
any one have to be told who Meg Mer- 
rilies was ? The very name of Uriah Heep 
causes a shudder of disgust as we thrust 
from our mind all thought of the cringing 
creature with his cold, clammy hands, and 
77 



Fireside Fancies 

for the poor little crooked doll's dress- 
maker we wipe away a furtive tear even 
while on our lips hovers a tender smile. 

For the knowledge so easily acquired 
through the medium of books can one be 
sufficiently grateful ? A few weeks of 
careful reading gives to us the result of 
years of laborious study and earnest re- 
search. On whatever subject we may 
desire information, whether in science, 
archaeology, philosophy, or in a thousand 
other directions, already the field has been 
explored and ably commented upon for 
the benefit of those who have not the 
opportunities nor perhaps the ability to 
make so thorough a study for them- 
selves. Within the covers of half a dozen 
carefully selected volumes may be found 
material sufficient to familiarize one's self 
with almost any subject. 



78 



Books and People 



BOOKS AND PEOPLE 

In the great race for gain' tis frequently 
in the sordid sense only that it is considered, 
but if carried to excess the pursuit of the 
dollar dwarfs the ability as well as the de- 
sire for gain of another kind, the intel- 
lectual and moral, which makes of minor 
importance the other sort of gain, neces- 
sary as that is for the well-being of man. 
Granting that he already possesses training, 
without it his wealth, whether counted by 
thousands or by millions, will be more 
likely to prove a curse than a blessing, not 
to himself only, but to others also. 

It is to these other kinds of gain that 
the success most worth attaining is attrib- 
utable. The moral gain gives stability 
and fixity of character, the mental, purpose, 
and the intellectual augments and develops 
the other two, thus creating that perfect 
trinity which makes the human being other 
than the brute beast. With the develop- 
ment of these is evolved the creature man 
79 



Fireside Fancies 

was meant to become. Social environ- 
ment, the many wearisome annoyances and 
trials, the hard, bitter facts that daily beset 
us, all are rendered easier to endure and 
to overcome by carefully looking after the 
trinity of gains. 

But to these three a fourth must be 
added, for the physical gain is of equal 
importance. Without health it is a difficult 
matter to keep the mind strong and vigor- 
ous, for that as well as the body may easily 
become diseased. All pursuits then be- 
come a labor, the results of which will be 
as warped, unsound, and unhealthy as the 
poor overwrought body and brain from 
which they sprung. True, there have been 
a few brilliant exceptions, but exceptional 
in a measure only ; their genius has been 
morbid, often distorted, rendered interest- 
ing, perhaps, only because of its weird con- 
ceptions. Therefore the training and care 
of each separate gain is equally important. 

Too much pains or thought cannot be 
given to the formation of mind and char- 
acter, or too much consideration to the 

many elements that contribute to the in- 
80 



Books and People 

fluence that surroundings have upon the 
individual. 

In the lives of the majority, people and 
books are the most influential factors in 
determining events and guiding the course 
of affairs. Both have contributed in large 
measure toward the finished product, — 
adult man. From each associate one has 
the right to expect and demand much that 
will contribute to the general welfare. 
And as one of the people much is expected 
from each one of us, and much must be 
given. Not in personal intercourse alone 
but through whatever channel is possible. 

If one has the ability to express himself 
in writing, let him try, and do his best in 
that way also, for a book to be known and 
loved need not necessarily be the work of 
genius, it need only be human to appeal 
to the heart, and may be a treasured pos- 
session in many a household where the 
author himself is but a name only. If, 
then, the book and the individual are con- 
ceded to be the two most important ele- 
ments in the development of man, from 
which has most been gained ? Does the 
6 81 



Fireside Fancies 

passivity of the one or the vital personality 
of the other most affect us ? 

From those by whom we are surrounded 
and live in daily intercourse, and from the 
friends whose warm hand-clasps and loving 
glances denote the bonds of sympathy 
which hold our lives together, something is 
constantly being given out, some influence 
imbibed. Even from those outside people, 
— strangers whom we meet to greet, only 
to sever and then part eternally. They, too, 
have something to offer. 

As these strange people come into our 
lives they sometimes leave an indelible 
mark upon the character. By a word or 
an action they have suggested something 
different, have brought the next round of 
the ladder a little nearer, have left behind 
them an inspiration and awakened ambi- 
tion, without which life is colorless indeed ; 
hopelessly depressing, the weary routine 
of days drag themselves heavily along, 
adding one after another to their number, 
taking one more from the span of life, 
but adding nothing to life itself; leaving 
nothing accomplished, — nothing done. 
82 



Books and People 

The spark of ambition must be dormant 
in every nature, needing only the congenial 
fire of a kindred spirit to set it aglow, for 
man is a social animal and requires human 
sympathy to enable him to give freely of 
his best and truest. The recluse may ex- 
cite admiration and wonder by the depths 
of his thought, the creations of his fancies. 
But it is only admiration ; the world cannot 
live by his theoretical ideas, true though 
they may be, for a truth to be useful must 
be animated with life ; it can then be in- 
corporated with the unwritten laws which 
govern the universe ; until then it lacks that 
one essential touch which makes all hu- 
manity akin ; their authors have been apart 
from, not of the people, they have written 
from the stand-point of what ought to be 
rather than what is. To understand the 
practical needs of one's fellows it is ne- 
cessary to live in close communion with 
human-kind. 

From the passing throng we gather up 

bits by the way and stow them safely in the 

storehouse of memory, from whence they 

sometimes rise to confront us with stern 

83 



Fireside Fancies 

and frowning menace when we fancied 
them lying forgotten covered over with the 
dust of oblivion. These unwelcome but 
wholesome reminders come from a source 
not to be escaped, giving to thoughts 
and actions their right names, their real 
motives, never once glossing them over 
with the courteous excuses our willing ears 
are too ready to accept 

Is it, then, from the living breathing 
people of to-day that most is gained, or 
from those dead and gone ones with whom 
books give us intercourse ? 

Many an old philosopher has left be- 
hind him a rich legacy of thought, and 
from those of a less stoical creed we learn 
of life's joys and aesthetics. They tell us 
of men and women who lived and loved 
thousands of years ago in an era of mag- 
nificence and sybaritish luxury that is 
positively dazzling to practical nineteenth 
century eyes. They were surrounded by 
that excess of elegance which the experi- 
ence of many nations has proved to be so 
enervating. It made of these stern war- 
riors and silver-tongued orators playthings 
8 4 



Books and People 

of the hour, warping their judgment, be- 
numbing their faculties, blinding them to 
the difference between right and wrong, 
causing them to lose their manly vigor and 
courage and to become in time mere pup- 
pets in the hands of their enemies. And the 
women of these times ? It is a sad truth to 
say that few among them were pure ; virtue 
and the attributes of noble womanhood, 
wifehood and motherhood, were well-nigh 
unknown. What wonder that under such 
demoralizing circumstances empires crum- 
bled and fell ! Again and again they rose 
Phcenix-like from their ashes only to again 
be consumed, until now a saner people has 
arisen, and law and order have taken the 
place of personal license. 

From such phases of degraded humanity 
it is a relief to turn to a purer people whose 
aspirations are higher, who at least strive 
to be men and women. 

Through the magic door-way of book- 
lore any age, any clime can be entered. 
In a moment we can be in the midst of in- 
teresting people, or beautiful scenes lie un- 
folded before the mental vision. Thoughts 
85 



Fireside Fancies 

are suggested profound and learned, sub- 
tle and exquisite, requiring from us only 
that we be receptive ; much or little can be 
gained according as the mind has been 
trained. 

Yet, after all, necessary as books are 
with their never-ending fund of entertain- 
ment, fascinating knowledge, and earnest 
thought, is it not the human sympathy we 
are most in need of, the warm hand-clasp, 
the quick glance of sympathy that assures 
us we are understood, the close personal 
intercourse ? These mean more than all 
the books that ever were written. One 
can live without books, but without love it 
is a cold and dreary world indeed. 

Our library friends are ever the same, 
we know just where to find them, in just 
what mood they will be, and which one of 
them will appeal to us most at the time, to 
which the mind is best attuned. Not so 
with those other friends, who like ourselves 
are ever struggling to make the real and 
the ideal harmonize. Of them we are not 
quite so sure, in the exchange of ideas we 
must be ever on the alert lest we be caught 
86 



Books and People 

napping, there is an agreeable consciousness 
of the friction of one mind upon another ; 
always anxious to understand no less than 
to be understood, one feels alive, a part of 
the moving universe. This personal inter- 
course spurs one on in the desire to make 
and hold a worthy position in the front 
ranks where integrity and honor hold sway. 

The same ideas derived from the printed 
page are sneered at as pedantic, considered 
Utopian, very pretty but quite impracticable 
in this work-a-day world. A harsh com- 
ment surely on human nature when what 
is manly and true is not useful in every-day 
life ! 

So it is, perhaps, the actors on the stage 
of to-day who have the most influence 
upon the daily lives of their fellows. Still, 
it is an open question whether from them 
the gain is of the greatest good or from the 
now mute voices of those who live only 
through the books they have bequeathed 
to successive generations. 



87 



Fireside Fancies 



AUTHORSHIP 

To be a successful author means one of 
two things, either great genius or the power 
of sensationalism ; which is the more popu- 
lar must be decided by the people. The 
former is read by a few, the latter, at this 
time, perhaps at all times, by the many ; 
therefore it would seem that the highest 
meed of praise must be reluctantly ac- 
corded to one who makes our flesh creep, 
the cold perspiration bespangle our in- 
tellectual brows, and the dark to be peopled 
with unknown terrors to our disordered 
visions. 

The sensational and realistic writers have, 
it is true, but a passing reputation. Their 
names, famous to-day, are forgotten to- 
morrow, while real genius lives forever. 
But geniuses are few, and growing fewer it 
would seem, while the popular writer we 
have ever with us ; he is all- pervading, 
everlasting. When one particular star sets 
there are dozens of new ones to take his 



Authorship 

place and shed their light for the benefit 
of mankind. 

But of the thousands of books published 
every year how many make their author's 
name known beyond a very limited circle ? 
It is a pathetic tale they would have to 
tell, the most of them, could they speak : 
of the animation and vigor with which 
they were begun when first the divine 
spark was felt by the aspirant for literary 
honors ; how the words fairly jostled each 
other in his eagerness to put on paper 
these thoughts which seemed to him so 
full of meaning, which were to convey a 
message to the world. How feverishly he 
wrote fearing some part might escape his 
untutored memory. How thought chased 
thought when once the impetus was given, 
until in the chaos of ideas he was fain to 
fling his pen to the floor in utter despair 
of ever bringing into anything like system 
this unruly mass of matter ; but with per- 
severance order is at length restored and 
the work continued. What moments of 
anxiety he endured in the great desire to 
make plain to others what to himself was 
89 



Fireside Fancies 

so clear, or, if the book was a novel, to 
make situation, incident, and conversation 
striking and original. For a time all went 
well and the work progressed rapidly, then 
followed a time of inaction when the brain 
utterly refused to perform its duty ; not an 
idea came ; the poor author was hopelessly 
stranded. 

For most authors literature is not like 
other enterprises, so much work to be 
gotten through each day, but it must be 
done when the brain wills ; be it little or 
much, the time necessary to accomplish it 
must be given. As to those authors who 
when asked about their method of work- 
ing reply that they give just so many 
hours each day to their literary labors or 
write so many lines or words, never ex- 
ceeding that limit, it may be all very well, 
but it is to be doubted if there is much 
true genius about it. Hack work could 
readily be done in such a way, but the 
books that have lived for centuries past 
and will go ringing on through those to 
come, the books that one can live by, were 
they written so many words at a time ? 
90 



Authorship 

Emphatically, no. A great thought must 
be expressed at once or it may be lost 
forever. 

But of the books that do not live, those 
hundreds and thousands of volumes that 
come so fresh and crisp from the printer's 
hands to take their places in melancholy 
rows along the bookseller's shelves ! With 
what hopes and fears they have been 
given up by their authors to an unsympa- 
thetic public, these children of the brain ! 
To their creators at least they have meant 
much, have been held dear. When the 
first proof-sheet is sent home, with what 
pride is it surveyed, how carefully read to 
correct any typographical error that may 
occur, and then returned to the publisher ; 
what the printers call form has again to be 
corrected. Finally, the book appears a 
completed volume, with all the precious 
ideas held close between the gilded covers. 
Then the anxious author begins to scan 
carefully all periodicals where book re- 
views are to be found, all papers where he 
may come upon a criticism of this his 
first essay in the field of literature. " Hope 
91 



Fireside Fancies 

deferred maketh the heart sick," and truly 
it is hard to be utterly ignored or damned 
with faint praise. To be lustily hauled 
over the coals and pronounced utterly bad 
is infinitely better, for a critic pronouncing 
this judgment on a book is sure to make 
it popular for a time at least. People 
want to see for themselves what it is he 
has so roundly condemned, and so the 
book rejoices in a short-lived popularity. 
Better that than absolute oblivion? Per- 
haps, but to be loved for a day and then 
flung away, it may be, is harder than never 
to have been loved at all. 

But failure is never popular, so enough 
of books that do not live, of disappointed 
hopes. The successful literati are the en- 
vied ones of earth, how they outshine the 
lesser lights in the firmanent ! They are 
courted and lionized to their heart's con- 
tent, and delight in the popular adulation. 
He who does not desire praise must be 
more than human, even the most confirmed 
cynic is susceptible to flattery. But Dame 
Fortune is fickle, she waves even the biggest 
lion aside with, Enough, make way. A 
92 



Authorship 

newer light has flashed upon her vision. 
Le roi est mort, vive le roi / 

In reviewing the celebrated men and 
women of the world's history, it is those 
who have been renowned for their intel- 
lectual gifts who hold the highest and best 
places. Great warriors, famous statesmen, 
step aside and bow before genius, kings 
and queens look up to and revere intellect. 
Where Plato sits there is the head of the 
table. 

To take a more prosaic view of the sub- 
ject, is literature a paying profession ? 

It would seem not, few authors are rich, 
from their books, at least. Has it not be- 
come proverbial that genius lives in an 
attic ? And have not these very attics be- 
come shrines whither the devout pilgrim 
from all civilized lands journeys to offer his 
homage? With what reverent feet we 
tread the ground where Thoreau's hut once 
stood by lovely Walden pond ! our voices 
hushed as if we feared the very birds to 
pause in their flight and chide us for dis- 
respect. Not far from the one time home 
of this philosophic dreamer is a quiet 
93 



Fireside Fancies 

country graveyard embowered in trees, tall, 
stately oaks and graceful elms wave their 
branches in silent benediction over the quiet 
dead sleeping so calmly their long sleep. 
Hidden away among the green loveliness 
on a sloping hill-side is a small white marble 
stone not more than a foot square ; it con- 
tains but one word, " Hawthorne," but 
that is enough. What a host of memories 
it brings up of this man who left his 
clerk's desk at the old custom-house in 
Salem to go out and become immortal ! 
Not many yards away, in the full glare of 
the sunlight, are imposing granite shafts 
extolling the virtues of those who lie be- 
neath, but who gives them a second glance ? 
Genius needs no monument of stone to 
keep its memory alive. 

Can it be that the man of genius is so 
often poor because he is somewhat one- 
sided in his nature ? To gain riches practi- 
cal good sense is required, and practicality 
is generally just what he lacks ; he feels that 
his mission in life is much too valuable to 
waste time in the pursuit of anything that 
does not relate to the one, all-absorbing 
94 



Novels 

subject. Few among them are what may- 
be termed all-round individuals ; they have 
let their one absorbing idea become so a 
part of themselves, have become so one 
with it, as to almost totally exclude the 
more homely but necessary side of life, 
and so little by little they have let matters 
take care of themselves, until there is noth- 
ing left to take care of; then comes the 
heart-breaking struggle with poverty, which 
so often ends in the downfall and complete 
annihilation of a brilliant mind. The 
physical man cannot starve and yet keep 
the mental man alive. The want of and 
struggle for daily bread has cost the world 
dear in the loss of talent crushed by cruel 
necessity. 

¥¥¥ 

NOVELS 

Since Richardson started a new era in 
novel writing down to the latest scribbler 
for the penny dreadful, almost without ex- 
ception the heroines of these more or less 
thrilling tales have been made beautiful ; 
95 



Fireside Fancies 

even the type of beauty has not varied to 
any great extent. It is either a face and 
form which seem all too ethereal to inhabit 
this coarse earth, or else the lady is a beauty 
whose cheeks glow with health, whose 
cherry lips meet to kiss each other over 
rows of priceless pearls, and whose eyes, 
like twin stars, sparkle with merriment or 
grow liquid with meaning when the tender 
heart is touched with sympathy for another. 

A little florid this description ? Well, per- 
haps so ; but one need not turn over the 
pages of many novels before finding its 
counterpart. 

But if the type of beauty has changed so 
little since the time of the parent of the 
novel, by no means can the same thing be 
said of the style of the heroines, the fragile 
Cecilias and Clarissas who sat demurely at 
their embroidery-frames while mamma en- 
tertained the guests, and who promptly 
fainted on all and every occasion that re- 
quired the least action or presence of mind. 
But after all, what mattered it ! for the lover 
always appeared in the most opportune 
way to carry off the adored one in his arms 



Novels 

to a place of safety ; when on opening her 
eyes she finds him bending over her in 
deep solicitude, she, like a well-brought-up 
maiden should do, faints again at finding 
herself in so indecorous a position. 

What a change from the proper and 
sedate heroines our grandmothers wept and 
smiled over to the strong-minded, athletic 
young women who adorn the pages of the 
novel of to-day ! 

It is just possible a happy medium might 
be struck, indeed, very often has been, by 
the writers of a fast passing generation. 
But the novelist of this day in order to be 
read must be up to date. So his heroine 
is strong-minded, of socialistic tendencies, 
an ardent advocate of the white ribbon, a 
doctor, a lawyer, or whatever else may 
happen to be the fad most in vogue at the 
time. 

But of whatever cult they may be, what 
they have looked upon and desired to be 
their life's work, all that ends for them 
when Cupid bends his bow and they are 
dragged willing victims to the altar of Hy- 
men, the goal of life, so the novelists would 
7 97 



Fireside Fancies 

have us believe, and surely they ought to 
know, for it is life they seek to depict. 

Now, how refreshing it would be if some- 
body would write a story whose heroine did 
not put to the blush by her virgin loveliness 
the freshly awakened dawn, whose hero 
was an ordinary man, and where no subtle 
villain, under the guise of their best friend, 
sought to bring disaster and ruin to all ! If 
such a remarkable volume did appear, pos- 
sibly it might not prove so absorbingly in- 
teresting as pages dark with crime and the 
timely frustration of it by the guardian 
angel of the pair. But then from its very 
novelty it might prove a hit. A book in 
which a plain Hannah or Martha (not a 
bit romantic names) should have her love 
and adventures narrated. For even plain 
Hannahs and Marthas, not only plain but 
sometimes decidedly homely, do have their 
loves and adventures. Sad, indeed, were 
it if all the sugar-plums of life fell into 
the lap of spoiled beauty. Very often it 
is these outwardly less attractive daughters 
of Eve who draw the biggest prizes in the 
everlasting lottery of living. 



Novels 

But the world loves beauty, and as they 
say all women are beautiful in the eyes of 
those who love them, perhaps that is the 
reason that the creators of these several 
types of heroines have really found them 
beautiful to their inner sight, so hasten to 
present them in fitting guise to the public. 
It is a generally accepted theory that love 
is blind, so very likely they only show them 
as they themselves fancy them to be. 

But a distinctly ugly heroine would be a 
relief to be hailed with delight, especially 
if she was just an ordinary, every-day girl, 
who neither sang like an angel nor painted 
like a Titian. Just an ordinary girl who 
was lovable because of her sweet womanli- 
ness. 

But enough of heroines. They are all 
so much alike that any further description 
would prove trite. 

Novels to be read must be interesting. 
They must be either extremely good, ex- 
tremely bad, or very much a la Zola. Those 
which do not come under any of these 
headings soon find a grave in cold oblivion. 
It is hard for the authors, no doubt, to see 
99 



Fireside Fancies 

these children of their brain so cavalierly 
dealt with, but the good of the many must 
be considered before that of the few, and 
in this way the much-enduring public is 
saved from one affliction at least. 

Dialect stories so much in vogue at the 
present time are laboriously read, and said 
to be enjoyed. No doubt many of them 
are wonderfully good, but one can only 
guess at the meaning of half the words. 
Why write for a public in a language it 
cannot understand ? Breathe it not aloud, 
but can it be another fad ? 

And then those stories, written for the 
upper crust, but whose characters savor 
strongly of beer and onions, whose con- 
versation in Bowery lingo is freely sprinkled 
with pure Saxon oaths. What such people 
say and do is often very much to the point, 
and a rough exterior may clothe a noble 
mind, but truly it is a harsh comment on 
human nature when such efforts of genius 
are greedily devoured and become the on 
dit of the day by men and women whose 
position would suggest that home truths 
conveyed in the language of refinement 

IOO 



Novels 

would seem to be the natural medium of 
communication. 

Realism is entering very largely, per- 
haps too much so, in the life and writings 
of the time. If some things were unfit to 
talk about and write about a quarter of a 
century ago, does not the same hold good 
to-day ? There was a strong revulsion to 
Puritanical ideas following the too broad 
period that preceded it. The time would 
again seem to be not far distant when 
another movement of the kind, a modified 
one at least, might not be inopportune. 

There are few novels and dramas now 
before the public which do not leave behind 
them just a little uncomfortable feeling, 
a wish that something had been left out. 

The minute descriptions of crimes, so 
largely indulged in by some authors, has 
undoubtedly helped many a less clever 
villain to the successful working out of his 
schemes. Were it not for the detailed 
minutiae of detective stories, there might 
not be so many prisoners at our docks, and 
such dangerous ones. The educated villain 
who is clever enough to escape detection 

IOI 



Fireside Fancies 

does infinitely more harm than the clumsy 
bungler, who is sure to be caught after two 
or three attempts, and is then shut up out 
of harm's way for a time. 

In really good novels what is conveyed 
between the lines means often much more 
than the printed words themselves. A 
sentence here, a paragraph there, and this 
book is forgotten as one's mind wanders 
off into a train of ideas suggested by what 
has just been read. It is a delightful way 
of reading, and causes a pleasant sense of 
one's own cleverness as thought chases 
thought through the brain. 

Books, like people, should not be all on 
the surface ; they should be loved better as 
we learn to know them better. 

¥¥¥ 

IMAGINATION VERSUS FACTS 

Hamilton Mabie has called imagination 
the power that liberates. And surely it 
does liberate in the freest possible manner 
from the petty cares and annoyances that 



Imagination versus Facts 

continually beset the path of the ordinary 
mortal. Once give rein to the imagination, 
and all sense of present surroundings is 
lost in the delicious abandon that takes 
possession of one. 

Imagination versus facts. The two are 
more closely allied than a first thought 
would suggest, for often it is but imagi- 
nation in the beginning which becomes facts 
in the end, and such facts as have power to 
influence the world's history. 

Had it not been for the so-called vagaries 
of the imagination, where would a thousand 
and one of the to-day's necessities have 
come from ? 

Fancy what reception Morse's first in- 
distinct ideas concerning the telegraph 
would have met with had he even so much 
as hinted at the possibility of a message 
being carried hundreds of miles without 
other aid than that of a small instrument 
at either end of a thin copper wire ; how 
his suggestion would have been scorned 
and himself looked upon as a harmless 
lunatic ! But he kept his precious secret 
until he was able to give practical demon- 
103 



Fireside Fancies 

strations with satisfactory results, and now 
the entire civilized world is his debtor. 

From the wizards of our own day, Edison 
and Tessla, the marvels that have resulted 
from their fancies are something utterly 
beyond the comprehension of the ordinary 
mind. 

Little did Benjamin Franklin guess while 
he was enduring the jeers of the small boys 
of a hundred years ago that such results 
would follow his experiments with the 
lightning. 

Facts are useful, very necessary to the 
routine of living, but without the fancies 
of the imagination many of the facts would 
remain unborn. 

It is the imagination very largely that 
makes life endurable forsome poor wretches, 
whose daily trials would prove more than 
they could bear were it not for the power 
that liberates, permitting them, for a time at 
least, an existence of their own making. 
Even mere babies will find happiness for 
hours at a time in playing with a bit of 
string or an empty spool, fancying them all 
sorts of things that please the wee mind, 
104 



Imagination versus Facts 

and from their own little thoughts will be 
born playfellows whose unseen presence 
bring far more satisfaction than the more 
substantial article of flesh and blood ; often 
these little friends become so real to them 
that it is almost with difficulty they can 
realize they are but names only. There 
are many instances of children keeping 
these same imaginary comrades as a very 
real part of their lives for months and some- 
times even years. 

With advancing time these childish fan- 
cies take the form of more ambitious 
dreams. It is then one begins to acquire 
real estate within the borders of sunny 
Spain. 

But it is not always that these dreams 
assume form sufficiently to become ac- 
cepted facts ; many worthy to rank among 
the world's treasures have remained the un- 
shared property of him to whom the dream 
has come, and his alone because of his in- 
ability to put into words the thought which 
is so exquisitely subtle as to prove alto- 
gether elusive when any attempt is made to 

express it in a language too coarse to con- 
105 



Fireside Fancies 

vey its finely shaded meaning. Many of 
our truest poets are, alas ! silent ones, 

" Who die with all their music in them," 

while other many have been able to secure 
the jewelled bridle which guides aright the 
glorious winged steed. Fancy a poet with- 
out imagination ; 'tis as easy to conceive as 
of a river without water, the merest mock- 
ery of the word. Poets are born, not made. 
So it is with imagination ; the attempted 
cultivation of either bringing but a dismal 
failure as a result. 

But he who is blessed with that rare gift 
is fortunate, indeed. There are few who 
really possess it, for imagination means 
something more than the idle fancies that 
flit through every brain. It is the cause 
of the first suggestion and an ever ready 
helper in the working out of all the beauties 
that are fashioned by the mind and hand 
of man. Without beauty to refine our 
surroundings much would be lost and men 
and women be little above the animal 
level. 

Imagine a world without poetry, music, 
106 



Imagination versus Facts 

and art ! Yet without imagination to lay 
the corner-stone any one of these would 
have been an impossibility. Place a sculp- 
tor duly equipped with all the necessary 
tools before a block of marble, deny him 
the inspiration born of imagination, then 
gaze upon the result. The finished figure 
may be anatomically correct and gracefully 
posed, but one may look long for any real 
beauty in it. 

The statues of Venus and the Apollo 
Belvidere were fashioned by no such pro- 
saic individuals. Fancy what visions of 
ideal beauty were running riot in the 
brains of their creators while their deft 
fingers were moulding the willing clay. 

True, we could live without beauty, and 
the divine harmonies of Beethoven are no 
more necessary to existence than are the 
glories of an Italian sunset, but who that 
has once enjoyed either would willingly 
forego them for the rest of his life ! Such 
sights and sounds bring a sense of keen 
pleasure that all the necessary facts in Chris- 
tendom cannot conjure up. They appeal 
to all the finer instincts in human nature. 
107 



Fireside Fancies 

But imagination is a greater factor than 
would be the case if it were only the 
source of all such useless trash as Mr. 
Gradgrind considers all things that are not 
strictly useful and necessary facts connected 
with the daily doings of life. It is the 
primary cause of all great inventions. 
One of the mightiest powers in all the 
world was evolved from the mind of Heron 
the Alexandrian about the year ioo B.C. 
Something suggested to him the force of 
steam, and from his well-balanced brain, 
aided by a vivid imagination, came the 
idea of a machine to be constructed which 
was to have for its motive power steam. 
It was constructed and did successfully the 
work it was intended to perform. And 
now look at what has resulted from that 
first vague fancy. That was two thousand 
years ago. During all those years how 
many people had watched the steam es- 
caping from a tea-kettle ! yet not until 
James Watts, only so short a time ago as 
the latter part of the last century, sat 
dreaming over the kitchen fire, gazing at 
the strange antics of the kettle's lid, did it 
108 



Castine 

suggest to any one the force which was in 
a measure to reconstruct and bring about 
the modern locomotive, that lumbering 
iron machine which enables us to over- 
come distances with as much ease as 
though they did not exist. 

Idle imagination, indeed ! a fig for those 
who scoff, and a sigh of sympathy for those 
who are denied so great a treasure. 

Glorious imagination, productive imagi- 
nation, one of the richest blessings that 
can fall to the lot of man, and through him 
a boon to all the world. Bulwer speaks 
of it as the arch beautifier of character, 
that sweet purifier of mere intellect. 

¥¥¥ 

CASTINE 

Sitting here in this odorous forest of 
pines, many hundred feet above one of the 
most beautiful bays in the world, what calm, 
serene thoughts come to one as the eye 
rests upon the scene stretched out at one's 
feet ! this great expanse of water flowing 
109 



Fireside Fancies 

out to join the ever restless sea. Nothing 
in that direction but water, — water blue and 
deep as far as the eye can follow it. 

But turn away from the horizon toward 
the shore, with its bold rocky promontories 
crowned with grand old forest-trees. On 
the highest point of all the light-house, that 
beacon of hope to the weary, shivering 
sailor, telling of the warmth and cheer that 
await him not far off, — only a short distance 
now, once the point is safely rounded, and 
once again he will be with wife and little 
ones who anxiously await his coming. 

To many a wanderer does Dice's Head 
Light tell a tale of love and home. It is only 
a humble third- or maybe fourth-class light, 
but it shines out into the night clear and 
bright, doing its duty in its appointed place 
with the same noble purpose as those oc- 
cupying more prominent places. Their 
mission is the same. 

Lying between these rocky shores is a 
harbor, safe enough and large enough for 
the navies of half the world to ride at 
ease. 

How peaceful and beautiful it looks 



Castine 

now ! this sparkling water dotted here and 
there with islands big and little. Some with 
scant herbage clinging desperately to the 
barren rock, struggling hard to gain a suste- 
nance from the unwilling soil ; others, again, 
covered thick with luxuriant greenery. 
Some scarce showing above the surface of 
the water, others rearing themselves many 
feet into the air. At low tide all sorts of 
fantastic rock formations are revealed ; but 
all are marked, the mariner need fear no 
lurking danger here. 

As a background for this are long chains 
of hills, some almost mountains, blue, and 
sharply outlined against the clear sky, or, 
again, misty and indistinct, half hidden 
in banks of fog ; nearer to are thin lines 
of mist flitting along, cutting the hills in 
two. Some are bleak and desolate, others 
robed in nature's garment of living green. 
Some make an abrupt plunge into the sea ; 
their almost perpendicular sides cut into 
cracks, crevices, and caves deep enough to 
suggest all sorts of delightful mysteries. 
Still others, sloping gently down, form a 
smooth shingle beach where many kinds of 



Fireside Fancies 

sea life are washed ashore and out again 
with each change of the tide. 

And then the water itself! sparkling, 
dancing in the sunlight, reflecting in its 
clear depths all the beauty of the world 
above and the wonderful cloud formations 
in the sky over all. It does not seem cruel 
and relentless here as in places elsewhere, 
eager to clutch and destroy its prey ; but 
bright and joyous, careless of the passing 
hours in the happiness of the present. And 
well it may be, for time does not exist for 
it. Even in times of storm it seems but 
half in earnest, more petulant than sullen, 
ready to break again into smiles at the barest 
suggestion of fair weather. 

Then fancy such a scene at sunset lighted 
up in a haze of purple and gold glory, 
bathed as it were in the life-blood of the 
dying monarch. A scene once witnessed 
never to be forgotten, changing every min- 
ute, revealing another bit of the gorgeous 
panorama, but only to pass it by and light 
upon still another, and then to fade away 
into the dull gray of twilight to reappear 
wrapt in the softer radiance of moonlight, 



Castine 

calm and tranquil in shadow, beautiful be- 
yond words to describe, where the silver 
orb throws her light from shore to shore. 

Out of the darkness into this line of flash- 
ing jewels comes a tiny boat, all sails set, 
drifting along on a breath of breeze, making 
a picture long to be remembered ; and now 
a canoe is gliding through, the silent dip of 
its paddles scarce ruffling the placid surface 
of the water ; it comes, stays but a moment, 
and is lost in the darkness beyond. 

And now the moon is hidden behind a 
mass of flying clouds, but only to break 
forth again in a halo of glory beautifying 
the most humble objects, smiling down a 
silent benediction on this quaint little town 
nestling so close to the water's edge, its 
quiet streets overarched with elms tall and 
stately, their branches interlacing, forming 
a net-work of green to shade the infrequent 
passer-by. 

But not always has it been so calm and 
dignified as it is to-day. It was once and 
for many generations the scene of strife 
and confusion. Remains of military breast- 
works and forts, in a fairly good state of 
8 113 



Fireside Fancies 

preservation, meet one at every turn. 
French, English, and Americans have 
struggled for the possession of this little 
town with its commanding position and 
magnificent harbor, it has been a much- 
coveted and often fought for prize, from 
the time of the Tarratine Indians until the 
early part of this century and the war that 
once for all freed us from a foreign yoke. 
Since then peace has come and reigns su- 
preme in this most restful spot. Go where 
one will in Castine, beauty surrounds one. 
It is one vast panorama of nature in her 
most majestic pose. Amid such scenes 
one is lifted above the trivialities of life, 
everything seems possible. Here can be 
found rest and peace, a better understand- 
ing of one's self. In such a place come 
thoughts too deep for utterance, an enjoy- 
ment so keen as to be nearly akin to pain. 
That, it may be, is the feeling of the true 
poet, for poet he is though his thought 
cannot find expression. They are the 
songs that never have been, never will be 
sung ; to put them into words would rob 
them of the harmony that makes the heart 
114 



Castine 

throb in a very ecstasy of delight. And 
yet from that very intensity of feeling 
comes absolute suffering ; many things jar 
and grate upon such a nature that to one 
of more phlegmatic disposition would be 
of no moment, if, indeed, he was even con- 
scious of a discord. 

Whether such a supersensitive organiza- 
tion is desirable is doubtful ; though the en- 
joyment is keener, so, also, is the suffering. 
Does the one counterbalance the other? 

The ordinary surroundings of life are 
not poetic ; indeed, in most cases they are 
hopelessly prosaic ; wings must be clipped, 
Pegasus submit to Bellerophon's bridle. 
But once the fancy is given freedom, what 
glorious, wide flights it takes ! time and 
place have ceased to exist, it runs riot 
among all nations, amid all ages, or nar- 
rows itself down to one happy hour,* and 
lives over and over again the bliss of those 
fleeting moments. 

Ah ! 'tis hard to be forced back to the 

dull realities awaiting the return to earth 

and, as doubtless many good people would 

say, a little ordinary common sense. Yes, 

us 



Fireside Fancies 

common sense and educated sense are both 
necessary to help in the performance of 
the routine duties of living. Uncommon 
sense and vivid imaginations are not neces- 
sary, but who that is blessed with the pos- 
session of one or both would willingly give 
up either? They bring into one's life a 
something for which there is no name, that 
changes the whole face of things. Scoff 
if you like, you intensely practical people 
to whom a spade is a spade, but until you 
learn to see with the eyes of imagination 
as well as reality you are losing three- 
quarters of the pleasures of existence. 



" Books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, 
And good in everything." 



Yes ! a thousand times yes for him who 
has eyes to see and ears to hear them, but 
for him who has not, the brook is but the 
water that turns his mill-wheel, the stones 
are of use for building cellar-walls, and his 
surroundings are good only in so far as 

they are conducive to his comfort. But to 
no 



Men and Women 

the poet the running brook is a little 
world in itself, carrying him with it out and 
away to lands not yet marked on any map. 

¥¥¥ 

MEN AND WOMEN 

When God created Adam, the man, he 
deemed it wise to give to him a helpmate, 
and so created Eve, the woman, that they 
two might find happiness together. 

It is well for men and women to form 
close friendships. Each has that something 
which the other lacks to help and guide 
them both. 

The man, if he be worthy of the name, 
has a strong, vigorous nature, ability, and 
desire to cope with the world, to protect 
and care for the woman. 

Woman's nature is more subtile, her 
every sensibility is more acute, and her in- 
stinct, that by which she often judges, 
rarely plays her false. For her the battle 
of life holds no alluring charms. She 
likes better to be sheltered and protected 
117 



Fireside Fancies 

by man's strength. Thus they form a 
perfect whole, — are the complement of 
each other. From the very beginning 
God has shown that he meant this should 
be. 

The influences to which we are subjected 
have much to do with forming the character. 
Going out into the world as a man neces- 
sarily must do, he comes in contact with 
much that is coarse and degrading. The 
world is a rough place, where nearly all are 
looking out for number one, trying to push 
aside those who may chance to stand in 
the way. Only the strongest and wisest 
survive. Many sharp corners are encoun- 
tered that must be rounded off in some 
way, — in an honest way, of course, but 
there are so many ways of looking at the 
same subject ; success comes often through 
devious paths. Familiarity with such things 
sometimes breeds indifference. To keep 
his better nature alive to itself a vital con- 
trast is needed ; he should find it among 
the women he knows. 

Social life as well as the business world 
has its dark side also. Petty ambitions, un- 
iiS 



Men and Women 

worthy subterfuges, scandals, and intrigues 
are found as often in the drawing-room as 
on the exchange. 

A man has many temptations to lead 
him astray, and although it is to be de- 
plored, yet it is scarcely to be wondered at 
that so often his sensibilities do become 
blunted. At thirty he shrugs his shoulders 
and smiles at that which at twenty he 
would have shrunk from in dismay. 

Every woman should be made to realize 
what a powerful influence she has or could 
have over every man she knows. She 
has much to answer for in his attitude 
toward right and wrong, and, above all, 
in the light in which he views her own sex. 
If all women are sacred to him, every action 
of his life will be regulated by the desire 
to stand well in their sight. 

Nothing is so base, so degrading, as the 
influence of a bad woman ; nothing which 
will sooner bring misery, disgrace, and re- 
morse. 

When a woman falls, God pity her, — 
every hand is against her ; not one is held 
out to save her from herself. No wonder 
119 



Fireside Fancies 

she becomes a desperate outcast She has 
nothing to hope for, — there is no possibility 
of her ever rising above this one sin. One 
false step, and it were better the grave had 
closed over her forever. Are the rest of 
womankind so immaculate, so free from 
faults, that they can stand secure upon the 
pillar of purity and point the finger of 
scorn at this woman whose fault has been 
her weakness? For the sake of our own 
mothers and sisters can we not try to raise 
rather than thrust her deeper into the mire ? 
The woman who fears to lose caste by such 
acts of humanity must be sadly lacking in 
character. 

Perhaps with all women the moral tone 
is finer than with men, and for that reason 
her disgrace is looked upon in a very differ- 
ent light from that accorded her tempter. 
In the eyes of the world her sin is too 
black to be condoned. Youth, ignorance, 
all fail to palliate in the smallest degree 
her crime in weakly yielding to the cow- 
ardly persuasions of the man who knows 
it is she who will suffer, be disgraced, and 
eternally condemned, while he can and will 



Men and Women 

walk with head erect, received by all as if 
his character were spotless as snow. For 
her are none of the thousand and one ex- 
cuses offered and accepted for him. 

Whose sin is the blacker ? — the man's, — 
he whom most women smile upon indul- 
gently and allow to whisper into their willing 
ears the sweet nothings of society conversa- 
tion ; or the woman's, — she whose love has 
been stronger than her weak, trembling 
self, from whom we women turn in shud- 
dering horror, holding aside our skirts, 
dreading lest the merest touch of garments 
should bring contamination ? When such 
treatment is all we have to accord her, are 
we entirely blameless in the matter of her 
ultimate degradation ? Have we nothing 
to answer for in gossip and scandal greedily 
listened to and passed on ? 

A woman's personality is far-reaching, — 
all pervading ; in the atmosphere which sur- 
rounds her there is an individuality, a some- 
thing which belongs to her alone ; and is 
as is she herself, refined and gentle or coarse 
and lowering to the moral tone. 

Real, disinterested friendship between a 



Fireside Fancies 

man and a woman is unfortunately rare ; 
when it does exist it is of much benefit to 
both. But that miserable old creature 
Dame Gossip will not let them enjoy the 
companionship ; many a good friendship 
has been spoiled by her meddlesome inter- 
ference. A man does not want to marry 
every woman he may chance to find worthy 
of admiration, nor does a woman desire to 
win the affections of every man who in- 
terests her. 

In sorrow or in joy man turns to woman 
for sympathy. It should be her great 
happiness as well as grave responsibility to 
give to him her best help and noblest 
thoughts. Women are quick to divine a 
man's needs, and he to feel her influence. 
Many lives have been spoiled by being 
misunderstood or nagged at continually. 
If not utterly wrecked they have become 
callous and indifferent. 

It should be the duty of every mother 
to win the respect and confidence of her 
son ; having gained this, all women will 
be honored in his sight because of her. 

Many girls, through sheer thoughtless- 



Men and Women 

ness and love of what they call fun, teach 
men to regard them lightly, so forfeiting 
their respect, something once lost never to 
be regained. In time these girls come to 
realize what this means, and to many it 
brings a feeling of recklessness ; becoming 
less and less womanly, they become more 
and more creatures of chance. Whether 
they rise or fall is a pretty even toss up. 

Love growing up between a man and a 
woman is something absolutely sacred. Yet 
there are people so thoughtless, nay, more, 
really vulgar, who seem to consider it a 
huge joke, the occasion for sly glances and 
pointed remarks. Such actions are posi- 
tively degrading. This first love is so beau- 
tiful, so pure, the happiness it brings so 
exquisite, as each realizes it dawning in his 
own heart, hoping, yet fearing, how it may 
be with the other. They say a woman is 
more observant in regard to such matters 
than a man ; it may be that is so ; at all 
events she nearly always knows when a man 
is beginning to have for her something more 
than a feeling of good comradeship. If she 
knows she cannot care for him, then she is, 



Fireside Fancies 

indeed, culpable if she permits him to go 
too far. It is bitterly hard for him to be 
rejected, and it is humiliating as well. 

Happily, the class of girls who consider 
it something to be boasted of when they 
can add one more to the list of their pro- 
posals is fast passing away. 

Probably there never yet was a woman 
so unattractive but some one found her de- 
sirable. If she does not many it is gener- 
ally from some good reason of her own 
rather than because she has not had the 
opportunity. 

Every Jack has his Jill, so they say, yet 
sometimes they never find each other, and 
only too often Jack discovers too late he 
has won the wrong Jill. In that case tact 
and consideration without end are required 
to make life endurable. 

The very happiest time in all a girl's life 
is when the man she has selected from out 
the whole world comes to her and tells her 
that he loves her. To him she gives her 
whole soul, believing him everything her 
heart would have. Happy the woman who 
can carry with her that belief through all 
124 



Men and Women 

the years of her married life. Much de- 
pends upon herself; it takes more than a 
pretty face and graceful manners to hold a 
husband's love and admiration. The first 
year of the new life is the hardest they will 
ever know. The routine of home life brings 
out many characteristics quite unnoticed in 
the halcyon days of the engagement. Many 
things that both have been accustomed to 
have to be modified or given up entirely ; 
some one must give in, and if there is to be 
any real comfort in the days to come the 
giving up must not be all on one side. 

Girls of the present day seldom know 
much about the management of a house 
and the proper treatment to accord ser- 
vants. At first they cannot quite realize 
why the new home cannot be run in just 
the same way as the one they have left ; 
they fail to understand that few men are 
able to begin where their fathers leave off. 
If the girl knows little, even less does the 
new lord of the manor know of domestic 
economy. Under the circumstances it is 
not at all strange that so many come to 
grief. 

"5 



Fireside Fancies 

There are many women who bring up 
their daughters with the idea of marriage as 
the one and only object in life. Instead of 
fitting them for the responsibilities entailed 
by the sacred trusts of wifehood and mother- 
hood, this kind of mother generally sacri- 
fices everything that her daughter may have 
a good time, relieving her from all duties in 
the home, sewing for her, mending her 
clothes, in fact, teaching her to be utterly 
useless and incapable. Poor, deluded 
mother, she thinks she is doing her child a 
kindness, whereas she is inflicting a most 
grievous wrong upon her. Cares and re- 
sponsibilities must come into every life. It 
will be doubly hard for this petted child to 
have them thrust upon her with no knowl- 
edge of how to meet them ; because of her 
training much needless trouble will come 
to herself and others. For all this self-sac- 
rifice how is the mother repaid ? what does 
she get in return ? Very little, it must be 
confessed, for a girl so reared very naturally 
becomes selfish and cold ; her brightest and 
best are kept for the outside world which 
cares nothing for her, while for those who 
126 



Men and Women 

love her, for the home circle, she has noth- 
ing ; she is never happy unless living in a 
whirl of excitement 

What wonder when such women marry, 
and the butterfly existence must perforce 
come to an end, that the home is made mis- 
erable. Their own and their husband's lives 
wrecked because of their ignorance of the 
real meaning of living. When complaint 
and dissatisfaction is all she can find to talk 
about, and when old clothes and an untidy 
house become habitual, why should he not 
go to the club to escape her querulous 
tongue? Is he altogether to blame if he 
seeks in the society of other women what 
he should find in his wife ? 

Men like the butterflies to amuse them, 
to have a good time with en passant, but 
for the long run the more sober-hued moth 
brings the more lasting happiness. When 
a man turns his back upon the worries and 
annoyances of business he wants a real 
home to come to, with a real woman in it, 
who finds her greatest happiness in admin- 
istering to his comfort and adding to his 
happiness. 

127 



Fireside Fancies 



WOMEN AND THEIR INTERESTS 

Clothes, servants, gossip, these are the 
subjects of conversation supposed to be the 
exclusive and sole right of women ; they are 
apparently not credited with the ability to 
go beyond these confines. Even the news- 
papers of the day have a column headed 
"Women's Interests," the paragraphs in 
which will be found to contain matters of 
great interest, such as the description of 
gowns worn by our aspiring countrywomen 
at some court ceremony, or there will be a 
condescending word of praise bestowed 
upon some feminine effort, or it may be a 
few lines regarding a novelty in fancy work. 
All such things, rather than the vital ques- 
tions of the times, are no doubt of para- 
mount interest to women. They ought to 
be if they are not, for all Christendom in- 
sists upon the fact that they are. 

There are women's magazines by the 
dozen filled with the same style of litera- 
ture, fashions in dress, fashions in wearing 
128 



Women and their Interests 

the hair, fashions in manners, and almost 
in morals, as if courtesy and goodness were 
fads to be put on or discarded according to 
the whim of the moment 

Whole pages are devoted to homilies on 
the training of children, how to feed and 
clothe them, punish or praise them, how to 
educate and guide their mental develop- 
ment. It is an easy affair, this theoretical 
training of children, as propounded by the 
writers of these articles. By following these 
few simple rules how much trouble might 
be saved these foolish (?) mothers who take 
into consideration the individual characters 
of their children and really believe each 
must be accorded different treatment, and 
that the clock-work method is not applica- 
ble to all alike ! 

To the busy woman these magazines 
should be a mine of wealth ; they tell her 
how to make over her old black silk, how 
to dye and press a last year's frock, trim 
it with half a yard of something costing 
seventy-five cents the yard, and after a 
phenomenally small amount of labor she 
will go forth in a gown which will be the 
9 129 



Fireside Fancies 

source of wondering envy to all her less 
practical neighbors. But the enterprising 
editors of these journals go even farther, 
they are tireless in their painstaking en- 
deavors to be of assistance to the weaker 
sex. Not satisfied with telling us how to 
regulate our behavior and morals, they 
even go so far as to tell us how to set a 
dinner-table, who to invite and who not 
to invite to our social functions. In fact, 
there should be little left to desire after a 
careful reading of the pages of these mag- 
azines. In addition to the above valuable 
hints are to be found a few stories, a poem 
or two, in fact, scraps of almost everything 
of interest to women. There are, of course, 
periodicals for the emancipated female also, 
who would scorn such follies as are sup- 
posed to interest her weaker sisters. These 
journals are of a very different order ; they 
are intensely progressive. In one of them 
was found, not long ago, an article on man. 
The writer took a hopeful view of this poor 
biped, and thought in time, with careful 
training, help, and consideration on the 
part of woman, he might — having a fair 
130 



Women and their Interests 

amount of brains — attain at last to some 
position and ability in the world. Truly, 
it is refreshing to find any one taking such 
a cheering view of things in this pessimistic 
age. 

Women certainly do talk a great deal 
about clothes and servants, and gossip is 
an actual tonic to some natures. But is 
the conversation of men always thoughtful 
and instructive ? Do they never talk about 
affairs distinctly frivolous or worse ? There 
are many women absolutely vapid ; but is 
not the scale pretty evenly balanced ? 
George Eliot has made Mrs. Poyser say, 
" There's no denyin' women are foolish. 
God Almighty made 'em to match the 
men." 

Man has had it all his own way so long 
that his ideas and theories of right have 
come to be accepted as such. But the 
woman of to-day is a new creature : she 
has just emerged from her shell of forced 
inactivity. If she misuses her liberty and 
makes herself ridiculous by going to violent 
extremes and flaunting her new acquire- 
ments before the eyes of a wondering world, 
131 



Fireside Fancies 

she is in part excusable ; many do the same 
in their efforts to appear at ease in a new- 
position. 

In time women will see how foolish they 
have been and how unwise is their desire 
to rule the universe and to oust man from 
his laborious position : they will then settle 
down quietly into their place in the world, 
which is certainly far from the position they 
have hitherto held, and it is to be hoped 
far from the one they apparently, at present, 
covet. 

They need not be puppets. The Evelina 
style is no longer admired, but neither need 
they become masculine ; surely there is a 
happy medium between such an inanimate 
piece of putty and the rushing, driving female 
of this latter end of the nineteenth century : 
a woman who shall be truly womanly in 
her attitude toward man, the one abso- 
lutely necessary for the development of the 
other. 

Woman undoubtedly resents a man's in- 
terference in the household ; she considers 
that to be her province exclusively. Then 
pray why not accord him the same privilege 
132 



Women, and their Interests 

when he takes the liberty to doubt her fit- 
ness for a man's work ? 

It would seem to be that what she de- 
sires is to have everything her own way and 
the right to do exactly that which seems 
good in her sight ; what she wants is, in fact, 
precisely what she has so long and so bit- 
terly complained of in men, the right ac- 
corded them all these ages. It looks a 
little like a case of Tweedledum and Twee- 
dledee. 

There is much to be said on both sides. 

Independence, more liberty, is their cry ; 
but once they have gained that coveted 
condition they are not satisfied. They de- 
mand what they call equality with men, 
and, when accorded that right, complain at 
the lack of courtesy shown them. Per- 
haps were these same women a little more 
gracious in their acceptance of courtesies 
they might receive them oftener. Men like 
to wait upon women when they feel their 
services are acceptable ; it is a pleasure to 
them to feel that women are dependent 
upon them. But naturally they do not like 
to be ignored or treated as superfluous ; 
i33 



Fireside Fancies 

they have held first place so long it is not 
to be wondered at their objecting to step- 
ping aside altogether. 

It would seem to be necessary that ex- 
perience remain the best teacher, and 
woman will learn her lesson in that way 
only, but the time will come, has come to 
many, when they will realize how fortunate 
they are that men are willing to care for 
and protect them. True, there are many 
poor women who have to make their own 
way in the world, but it depends very 
largely upon themselves what treatment 
they receive from men. These bread-win- 
ners can be an immense power for good if 
they will only exert the very best that is in 
them and command respect and fair treat- 
ment. A few generations of such women, 
and there would be much less sin in the 
world. 

Nine times out of ten it is a woman's 
influence makes or mars a man's life. The 
women of the home begin it, the women of 
the world finish it ; so not until all women 
are noble will all men be brave and true. 

The woman who is content with a less 
i34 



Women and their Interests 

conspicuous sphere in life is the woman 
who has time to devote herself to making 
a home whose influence shall be a power 
for good to all who enter its doors. Let 
woman rule, if rule she must, through the 
atmosphere she creates around herself; 
that influence is far greater than many 
of them realize. Let it be used to in- 
spire men with noble thoughts and high 
ideals. 

Since Eve tempted and Adam fell woman 
has been the power behind the throne ; some 
of the noblest and, alas, some of the wick- 
edest deeds of history have been the result 
of her influence. But as two wrongs never 
yet made a right, there will of necessity 
have to be concessions on both sides be- 
fore matters will assume a normal condi- 
tion. Woman has been in bondage so 
long that the fetters once loosed she will 
undoubtedly often soar far beyond her 
strength, and the resultant falls will cause 
many bruises, but in the end they will 
prove salutary, and determine conclusively 
just how far she can go with safety and ben- 
efit to herself. She is at present in a tran- 
i3S 



Fireside Fancies 

sition stage, and, as every one knows, that 
is a most trying and ungraceful position to 
occupy. 

Colonel Higginson puts it well when he 
says the wonder is not that she has done so 
little, but that she has done so much under 
the existing circumstances of the past. 

All women, whether they belong to the 
aggressively progressive type or not, resent 
the false position they are at present forced 
to assume. 

Even now a woman with brains a degree 
beyond the average is looked upon as 
somewhat of a rara-avis, and is accorded 
a half-respectful, half-grudging meed of 
praise ; she is considered a blue-stocking 
and shunned as eccentric, while a man of 
unusual ability is a lion among his fel- 
lows. 

Well, woman will one day find her level, 
and when that much-to-be-desired time 
arrives it is to be hoped that the much- 
vexed question of woman and her sphere 
will be laid away deep down beneath the 
sod in a grave too deep ever to be ex- 
humed. 

136 



Females Unattached and Otherwise 



FEMALES UNATTACHED AND 
OTHERWISE 

Absolutely bewildering are the varied 
phases of femininity. It is not to be won- 
dered at that woman has gained the repu- 
tation of being fickle, although in many, 
very many cases the accusation is a most 
unjust one. It is her varying moods and 
often apparently unaccountable actions that 
have gained for her this undesirable reputa- 
tion. 

There are as many types of womanhood 
as there are women in the world, for, look 
the universe over, no two, however much 
they may seem alike, but will be found to 
have strongly differing characteristics which 
give decided individuality to each. 

One is obliged to keep constantly on the 

alert in order to meet half-way the many 

moods that most women will display in an 

hour's intercourse. And yet is it not in just 

i37 



Fireside Fancies 

that variety wherein lies the charm of the 
sex's personality? 

Woman is bewildering, tantalizing, sooth- 
ing, vexing, craving forgiveness, and meek- 
ness itself all in five minutes. No wonder 
men give up trying to find an explanation 
for it all and are forced to accept them as 
they are, for charming enigmas whom they 
could not, and would not if they could, get 
along without. 

Still, this description does not apply to 
all the gender ; far from it, indeed. Many 
would consider it a positive insult to be so 
classed ; at least so they say, but entre nous, 
would they? The nineteenth century 
woman is a most complex affair ; really, it is 
much to be doubted if one among them 
knows just what it is she does want. But 
breathe that not in Gath ! 

To begin with, this type of woman wants 
to forge ahead and keep pace with the men 
in all matters whatsoever, pertaining alike 
to things secular and religious. She wants 
a voice in politics, on the rostrum, in the 
press ; in short, she wants a voice every- 
where except, perhaps, in the home, and 
138 



Females Unattached and Otherwise 

with this class of woman the home gets 
along quite as well without as with her, 
perhaps better. 

Such women should belong to the band 
of independent females. They have no 
moral right to promise to make homes for 
men or to become mothers of children if 
they mean to desert such sacred duties to 
enter into a wider field of usefulness, as 
they express it. What can possibly give a 
wider range or grander opportunities than 
the position of wife and mother ? 

The help and comfort which only a lov- 
ing wife can give to her husband, the tender 
sympathy which goes so far to lighten the 
load when he is bowed down with care and 
anxiety, a judicious and well-timed curtail- 
ment of expenses when money difficulties 
render it expedient He is a wise man who 
goes to his wife when troubles environ 
him. Many an innocent woman has been 
blamed for the ruin that has come, when 
she has known nothing whatever of its prob- 
ability. Some men are too cowardly to tell 
their wives of impending disaster, others, 
from a false sense of kindness, withhold the 
139 



Fireside Fancies 

knowledge, and very many think them ab- 
solutely incapable of understanding any- 
thing connected with business affairs. Too 
often wealth, happiness, and home is sacri- 
ficed to false ideas. 

When a woman becomes a mother she 
has assumed a position the most respon- 
sible that can come into a human life. 
Her opportunities are boundless, her influ- 
ence without limit. It is the mothers who 
make the nation ; their precepts rule the 
world. Motherhood should be a woman's 
highest happiness as well as the cause 
of her gravest responsibility ; to assume 
the direction of a human life is no light 
task. Yet how often are these gifts of 
God, these sacred trusts, confided to the 
care of ignorant and often immoral ser- 
vants, whose culpable neglect or injudi- 
cious indulgence will do more harm in a 
single day than years of careful training 
can irradicate ! 

" Partnership with God is motherhood ; 
what strength, what purity, what control, 
what wisdom, what love should belong to her 

who helps God fashion an immortal soul !" 
140 



Females Unattached and Otherwise 

The unattached females, those who range 
from the age of twenty-five to ten years 
later, occupy rather a trying position ; they 
are no longer girls, although they feel young 
and most of them look so, neither are they 
settled-down women with an assured po- 
sition of their own. They are just as 
capable of enjoying a good time as when 
they were in their teens, yet the girls of 
that charming age talk about them as the 
old girls, and consider it a bore to have 
them around and claiming a part in their 
fun. Poor things ! they do not seem to 
belong quite anywhere ; few find the niche 
they do fit into before they are forty, un- 
less, indeed, Hymen claims them in the 
mean time. But by the time they reach 
this age most of them have settled into a 
groove. 

Some think the hurly-burly of the out- 
side world is where they belong, some find 
enjoyment and variety in club life, still 
others turn philanthropists. A good many, 
the majority it may be, find their vocations 
in the nurseries and by the firesides of 
their more attractive sisters, and there they 
141 



Fireside Fancies 

live out a quietly contented, colorless ex- 
istence, darning the children's stockings 
and looking after their welfare generally, 
doing a little here, a little there, to fill in 
deficiencies and make more perfect the 
rounded sum of other lives. 

Only too often such a complete obliter- 
ation of self is accepted without a thought 
or with a half-compassionate feeling of 
complacency that a home is given this 
sister who has no closer ties. 

They do noble work in the world, these 
women, and they are seldom appreciated ; 
but perhaps they do not seek or require 
sympathy. All honor to them ; may they 
always find a warm corner in somebody's 
heart and home. 

There is still another class of women 
who may be numbered among the unat- 
tached, — those who have cultivated their 
minds a degree beyond the rest of their 
kind, who have cared for the reading of 
good books, or have followed out some 
branch of science. The beauties of nature 
and of art have meant much to them, or 
they have found interest and enjoyment in 
142 



Females Unattached and Otherwise 

the study of their fellows. These women, 
whatever their station in life, have a never- 
failing fund of wealth to fall back upon 
when other sources fail. They are never 
lonely, seldom bored, and can always find 
amusement within themselves, one of the 
greatest blessings which can fall to the lot 
of a human being. A few, having ex- 
ceptional talents, make for themselves name 
and place in the world of art or letters. 
But it is to be doubted if they are as 
happy in this glare of light as when they 
were resting in the kinder twilight of ob- 
scurity. 

And yet, if one feels she can excel in 
any special direction, be it ever so little, 
surely it is wise and desirable to add that 
little to the general good. It is after the 
manner of thus excelling that the world 
has progressed. Each one adds his or her 
mite, and so little by little the whole has 
been reared. 

But little by little the world is meeting 

with a sad and irreparable loss in a gradual 

dying out of its womanly women and the 

substitution in her place of the boisterous 

143 



Fireside Fancies 

and aggressive female of the nineteenth 
century. 

The past hundred years has seen no 
more startling or wonderful event than the 
change of position of its women. Is the 
change for the better? There used to be 
something almost sacred about the name 
of a good woman which appealed to the 
chivalrous in every man's nature and made 
the idea of protection very sweet to both. 
Perhaps this is too pessimistic a way of 
looking at the question, and as all reforms 
are the result of violent extremes, so prob- 
ably will it be with woman and her sphere. 
Some day she will realize that to be born 
a woman is the greatest privilege bestowed 
upon the human race ; her opportunities 
are limitless, with her it rests whether that 
human world of which she is a part shall 
be ennobled or degraded, for hers is the 
right of motherhood, that most sacred 
trust which few indeed are worthy to have 
bestowed upon them. 



144 



Church and Religion 



CHURCH AND RELIGION 

Many and varied are the phases of re- 
ligion, of that something which should be 
an absolute unity among all mankind ; so 
much a thing, of course, that as a separate 
entity it would never be considered ; as 
much a part of life as the air breathed ; a 
natural atmosphere surrounding every one. 

And yet there is no one thing in the his- 
tory of the world which has caused more 
bitter quarrels, more brutal warfare. 

How is it possible to suppose that a re- 
ligion thrust upon a people at the point 
of the sword can inspire reverence and 
love, or can be acceptable in the sight of 
God! 

From earliest times it has been the forms 
and ceremonies of the church that have 
caused such hot dissensions, such terrible 
ruptures of nations. The way in which 
God should be worshipped has been the 
all-important and much-disputed question. 
So important, indeed, did these matters 
10 145 



Fireside Fancies 

become at one time not so very long ago, 
it seemed as if the first meaning was fast 
sinking into a secondary place, if not being 
overlooked altogether. 

But in no one direction has the thinking 
man asserted himself more boldly of late 
years than in his attitude toward religion ; 
he now realizes that his professions carry- 
far less weight than his deeds. Acts, not 
words, stamp the man. 

But even yet the narrowness and bigotry 
surrounding the church is a fruitful source 
of evil. The day has passed for the people 
to accept and believe because the church 
says so ; there are now more thinking for 
themselves, believing what seems right to 
them, rejecting much that would have 
caused an earlier age to gasp with horror 
over the mere idea of doubting. 

There are many types of Christians. The 
Sunday one, for example, who causes that 
blessed day of rest to be dreaded as one of 
weary misery because of his Puritanical 
ideas which are confined to that day alone, 
and, like his other Sunday garments, are 
laid away until another week rolls around. 
146 



Church and Religion 

Another type is the indefatigable church- 
worker, whose time is so occupied with 
meetings of one kind and another that when 
she is at home her overwrought nerves and 
fatigue find vent in impatience and irrita- 
bility, thus throwing another shadow over 
so-called religion. Such as these do infi- 
nite harm to the cause they profess to be 
working so earnestly to advance. 

There are so many sects, so many roads, 
all leading to the same goal. 

To the heathen (?) missionaries are sent. 
In one place there will perhaps be repre- 
sentatives of half a dozen different denomi- 
nations. One point they have in common, 
and, as far as the church goes, one only, — 
they all agree upon the divinity of Jesus 
Christ ; but the way in which He shall be 
worshipped, the way in which His example 
is to influence their lives, is so differently 
put to these almost wholly ignorant, only 
partially civilized people, what wonder is it 
they find this new religion offered them too 
vague and unsubstantial for their accept- 
ance ! Which one of them all is to be be- 
lieved and relied upon ? 
147 



Fireside Fancies 

A native of Ceylon is said to have told 
one of the many missionaries who visited 
his island that until they — the missionaries 
— could agree among themselves it would 
be worse than useless to expect others to 
accept their teachings. 

Mohammed, to the followers of Islam, is 
the prophet of Allah ; to the Christian, 
Jesus Christ is the prophet of God. Are 
not God and Allah one and the same? 
Does not the difference in the lives of their 
followers come chiefly because of educa- 
tion? When the East accepts Western 
civilization the evils of their religions will 
right themselves. 

Let those who feel their work should lie 
in foreign fields turn their attention to edu- 
cation by practical methods. Let their re- 
ligion be a part of themselves, and their 
teaching of it be of the protecting love of 
God and of their duties toward their fel- 
low-men ; that will convey far more mean- 
ing to their limited understandings than 
the forms and ceremonies of various sects, 
which only serve to confuse them. 

It would simplify living very materially 
148 



Church and Religion 

if every one would do as near right as heart 
and conscience dictated. This world would 
then be a much easier place to live in. A 
spirit of tolerance would go a long way in 
the right direction. 

All are striving for happiness now and 
hereafter ; but as we live we create our 
own heaven or hell. 

What deeds of cruelty have been done and 
bloody wars fought, which have brought 
horror, agony, and even annihilation to 
whole nations, all in the name of religion ! 
Such things cannot be pleasing to a merci- 
ful Father ! What difference does it make 
to Him whether we are called Heathen or 
Christian, Catholic or Quaker, so long as we 
live the right kind of lives ? Every one 
knows when they do wrong, so bringing 
misery to themselves and sorrow to their 
God, sorrow because of man's weakness, 
not an opportunity to wreak vengeance. 

The Bible and the pulpit have much to 
answer for in their interpretation of the God 
of fear. 

It would be a God of cruelty who de- 
lighted thus in the torture of the creatures 
149 



Fireside Fancies 

He had made after His own image. If 
this were so, would He have made this 
world so beautiful and so productive, have 
given man a reasoning intelligence that he 
might use and enjoy that by which He has 
surrounded him ? If we allow ourselves 
to abuse His gifts and let the Godly in 
our natures be gradually stamped out, 
surely it is our own fault ! If nature's 
laws are transgressed, suffering is the re- 
sult. It is cowardly in the extreme to at- 
tribute to Providence what is wholly the 
result of man's weakness. 

No quarrels ever raged with more bit- 
terness than those between church factions. 
The very idea conveyed by the word church 
should be love and unity of mankind, yet 
it would seem to be almost a synonyme for 
dissension. 

Where people are met together to do 
church work there is much hot discussion, 
ending very often in open rupture, because 
of forms to be observed. 

It is not the formal observance of re- 
ligion that God cares about, but the real 
spirit that is shown in the daily acts of liv- 
150 



Weimar and Naishapur 

ing, in man's relations and dealings with 
his fellow-man. That is the only religious 
spirit worthy the name. 

Is it whether a man calls himself Chris- 
tian, Buddhist, or Moslem that makes him 
acceptable in God's sight? 

Be he Jew or Gentile, there is but one 
thing makes a man what his Creator in- 
tended him to be, and that is the compre- 
hension of the fact that " the kingdom of 
heaven is within a man," and with himself 
alone does it rest whether he becomes 
Christ-like or tramples his God underfoot 

¥¥¥ 

WEIMAR AND NAISHAPUR 

The monotonous drip, drip of the rain 
outside makes even more attractive than 
usual the cosey library lighted only by the 
blazing logs ; the warm glow from which ex- 
tends into the farthest corner of the room, 
causing many a revered object to assume an 
appearance positively grotesque. 

The bust of the dignified Goethe might 
151 



Fireside Fancies 

as readily be mistaken for the likeness of a 
grinning satyr as of the glorious genius of 
Weimar, the author of "Faust ;" for it is to 
that poem he owes his great fame, although 
his genius had the rare quality of being 
equally powerful in many directions. 

His literary work comprises a vast series 
of subjects, in each of which some special 
phase of the writer's character reveals itself. 
In " Faust" he is the philosopher, in " Her- 
mann und Dorothea" the idyllist, in "Mar- 
chen" he becomes an allegorist ; as a prose 
writer alone he would have ranked among 
the first of Germany's literary celebrities. 
In the field of science, also, he was an ac- 
knowledged leader. Rare as such a com- 
bination is, all these attributes were found in 
Goethe. Added to this was the desire and 
the ability to so use his talents that by his 
indomitable courage and vast capacity for 
making the most of these gifts he made of 
himself what few men have become. An 
early development of the power of self- 
control was largely instrumental in bringing 
about the brilliantly successful result. To 
his mental acquirements health also was 
152 



Weimar and Naishapur 

added, and a life of over fourscore years 
in which to accomplish the prodigious labors 
of his pen. With high social position, am- 
ple means, and physical beauty, surely this 
man was favored by the gods. 

Highly gifted, charming in manner to an 
unusual degree, he attracted to his side the 
intellect and refinement of the age. Men 
and women alike found the charm of his 
personality irresistible. 

Among so many whom the Fatherland 
is proud to claim Goethe stands supreme. 
His influence upon his surroundings can 
scarcely be over-estimated. Herder, Les- 
sing, Schiller, these and many others whom 
the world holds in reverence were his 
friends. Their genius received impetus 
from his own, to him were they indebted 
for much intellectual food. But while he 
gave so generously he also received in- 
calculable benefit from intercourse with 
men of such mighty powers. The world 
in which he lived had as much to offer his 
constructive genius as ever it could receive 
in return. 

Every man, great or little, has his weak- 
i53 



Fireside Fancies 

nesses. Goethe's was a superstition regard- 
ing certain days which he considered fatal 
to any undertaking begun on them, one of 
these being the 226. of March, and, strangely 
enough, it was on that day he died. 

Pre-eminent among his works is "Faust ;" 
this poem, begun when he was a mere boy, 
— but twenty years of age, — extended itself 
over a period of sixty years, for not until 
the poet was within seven months of his 
death was the last line of the second part 
written. Many of his contemporaries had 
already produced versions of the story of 
Dr. Faustus, but Goethe's is the only one 
of them all which stands out fresh as the 
hour when it came from the printer's hands. 
Among many other works, that also was in 
an unfinished state when its author took up 
his abode in Weimar, where his official du- 
ties and whole mode of life so interrupted 
the tenor of his thoughts and interfered 
with the completion of the manuscripts 
that it is probable "Faust" would have 
been among those which were never finished 
had it not been for the urgent solicitations 
of his friends, Schiller among them ; it was 
iS4 



Weimar and Naishapur 

largely owing to his insistence that after a 
lapse of fifteen years Goethe again took up 
the thread of thought so long laid aside, 
and another fragment was added. Finally, 
after many delays and interruptions, the 
first part was published in 1808, and a 
new masterpiece took its place among the 
immortal productions of man. Not until 
many years had passed, and this great man 
was fast nearing his end was the second 
part given to the world. It has been said 
that Goethe would not permit himself to die 
until the whole of this work conceived in 
his early youth had been finished as he in- 
tended it should be, with Faust overcoming 
the wiles of Satan, with the final victory of 
his hero, and his ascent into heaven. This 
done, the life work of one of the world's great- 
est geniuses was accomplished. To the first 
part of this poem is given universal acclaim. 
Every one is familiar with its pages, while 
many are acquainted only in a hap-hazard 
way with the final scenes in this drama of a 
life. Had the story of Marguerite remained 
unwritten, Goethe's place in the world of let- 
ters would have ranked among the highest, 
iS5 



Fireside Fancies 

it is true, but, where now his name is known 
among all classes and conditions, it would 
in that case have been only the cultured 
few to whom his writings appealed. He 
would have been considered a man of marked 
ability, perhaps might even have claimed 
the title of genius, now unreservedly his. 
Some one of his other works might have 
given to him that rank. But it is as the 
author of "Faust" that his name has become 
a household word ; by that supreme pro- 
duction has he become one of the immor- 
tals. "Faust" was inspired ; were it not for 
the fact that its author's name adorns the 
title-pages of "Wilhelm Meister" and "Her- 
mann und Dorothea," they would now be 
little read. Fine as they are, they are yet 
utterly dwarfed by the side of " Faust." Un- 
like as they are, comparison is impossible. 
Were they each the product of a different 
pen, each would stand as a type of supreme 
excellence in its own special line. 

The "Sorrows of Werther," vastly popu- 
lar in its day, Goethe is said in later years to 
have utterly condemned, and regretted ever 
having written it. To the general public 
156 



Weimar and Naishapur 

his "Iphigenia at Taurus" is little more than 
a name, although it has by many critics 
been pronounced the finest specimen of 
modern Greek tragedy, yet the ordinary- 
reader knows very little about it, few among 
them have turned its pages. But all the 
world knows of the temptations offered to 
Faust by the wily Mephistopheles. Had 
he never written another line, that alone 
would have insured him lasting fame. 

Few, indeed, are so gifted as to produce 
more than one masterpiece. They may 
accomplish much good work, but it is by 
one supreme effort that they gain the pin- 
nacle of fame. Milton's " Paradise Lost," 
Byron's " Childe Harold," Dante's " Divine 
Comedy," these are incomparable and will 
live forever. 

To do without these classics, not only 
these but many others of less pretension 
yet equal worth, would rob the world of 
much that it now holds dear. 

Books are so much a part of life that it 

is difficult to fully realize their value, or to 

appreciate how much careful thought has 

gone toward their making. Page after 

i57 



Fireside Fancies 

page is skimmed over with never a mo- 
ment's pause to think of what it has meant 
to the author ; how in his effort to make his 
meaning clear in the fewest words possible 
he has written and rewritten the sentence 
that now reads so easily. 

There is a vast difference in the con- 
struction of sentences. Some are so in- 
volved, so hemmed around with big words, 
that in the effort to get at the meaning one 
fails to intelligently connect this latest idea 
with the one preceding it. Whenever a 
word of two syllables will adequately ex- 
press a thought one of four should unhesi- 
tatingly be discarded. For why write if not 
to be read, and if read to be understood? 

Flaubert is said to have desired to write 
for a few only, but deep down in his heart 
must have lurked the wish to have the few 
expressed by an addition of numerals. 

However small the circle his writings 
may reach, an author should not be de- 
terred from saying what he feels may ap- 
peal to those few. To them it may be of 
value, and through them transmitted to 
others. 

158 



Weimar and Naishapur 

Probably every one has a direct mission 
in life if he would take the trouble to find 
it out ; and when found, if followed up, 
much satisfactory work would result. 

Matthew Arnold makes it very clear in 
these lines : 

' ' Bounded by themselves and unregardful 
In what state God's other works may be, 
In their own tasks all their powers pouring, 
These attain the mighty life you see. ' ' 

For, after all, it is our own individual exist- 
ence we have to live out, so why be con- 
tinually comparing our surroundings with 
those of others ? In the same poem he 
says, — 

' ' Resolve to be thyself, and know that he 
"Who finds himself loses his misery." 

Instead of following such eminently good 
advice and endeavoring to find our true 
selves, we are continually looking out for 
the characteristics of others bound up in 
our own personality, so destroying the in- 
dividuality we should be forever striving to 
cultivate. 

Originality is something rarely found, be- 
159 



Fireside Fancies 

cause all are trying to be like some one 
else. The result is a hopelessly mediocre 
and generally uninteresting set of people. 

But when the surface self is forgotten 
for a time, then social intercourse becomes 
something more than the mere platitudes, 
which are all that the other phase will 
allow. 

Where all are so impregnated with the 
veneer of good form, one hesitates to 
break through the formalities, fearing to be 
misunderstood ; to that fear is due much 
of the flippancy met with in ordinary in- 
tercourse. Each mistrusts the other. 

With some poor unfortunates the lack 
of individuality is attributable to their half- 
hearted belief in the lines of old Khayyam : 

" 'Tis all a checkerboard of nights and days, 
Where destiny with men for pieces plays, 
Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, 
And one by one back in the closet lays." 

What incentive to achievement can 
there possibly be with that idea for the 
background of life? If there is a "des- 
tiny that shapes our ends," then we start 
in life pretty severely handicapped. It is 
1 60 



Weimar and Naishapur 

much more inspiring to believe that we 
have something to do with the shaping of 
our own destinies. Omar thought much 
and wrote a great deal that is misleading 
at first sight, but one can easily read be- 
tween the lines of his quatrains and gather 
many a meaning that the words fail to 
convey. 

The man was centuries beyond his time. 
Throughout all he has written can be felt 
that reaching out for something just be- 
yond his grasp ; he felt there must be 
something tangible for which his whole 
soul longed, yet which he could not suffi- 
ciently fathom to quite believe in. Every- 
thing was against him, the time in which 
he lived, the people by whom he was 
surrounded. He lived in an era of mate- 
rialism among a set of scoffers, so he, too, 
scoffed with the rest ; on the surface, at 
least, trying as best he might to stifle his 
longings and ignore his uncomprehended 
desires ; brooding in secret, expressing his 
ideas in grossest materialism or in tones of 
tenderest reverence ; misunderstood by his 
associates, having but an uncertain knowl- 
II 161 



Fireside Fancies 

edge of himself, at one time living the life 
of a Stoic, at another, if we may believe 
his own words, one of wild debauchery. 

Had he lived in nineteenth century civili- 
zation instead of eleventh century barbarism 
his knowledge would have been more com- 
plete, his life have been one of worth and 
usefulness to his world. 

It is strange that this Persian poet, who 
lived so long ago and who wrote so little, has 
been so often translated ; that he has been 
proves his genius. Men do not waste their 
time on difficult problems unless some rich 
harvest is to follow. Again and again has 
he been translated, and more than once 
by the same admirer ; with each new read- 
ing fresh meaning is revealed, new depths 
of thought discovered : a retranslation is 
the result, and again the effort is made to 
express, in our practical language, the 
mysticism of the original. In a strictly 
literal translation much beauty would be 
lost, and would probably fail to convey to 
our unoriental senses the real meaning of 
the poet. 

For he was essentially a poet, as is proved 
162 



Society 

by the very unsuccessful attempts to render 
into prose his quatrains. To convey their 
meaning his thoughts must needs be ex- 
pressed in verse. 

Rest well, Omar Khayyam ! at last the 
great mystery for which thou so vainly 
sought a clue lies unravelled before thee. 
Sleep well in thy quiet grave under the 
shadow of the roses of Naishapur, those 
roses that were once so dear to thee. 
May their scented petals for evermore fall 
in silent benediction upon thy resting-place. 

**¥ 

SOCIETY 

To be in society is the much coveted 
goal of a multitude of people. 

To be in society of the kind which is gen- 
erally meant, when the word is used by the 
people who desire to be in it, requires but 
one thing. The all-powerful bank-account 
is the open sesame to this charmed circle. 
With that at his back, society opens wide 
its doors to the aspiring possessor, and at 
163 



Fireside Fancies 

once he is in the swim, rushing headlong 
with the rest of the upper crust. They are 
hard-working individuals, these society peo- 
ple. Their energy is deserving of the ad- 
miration worthy a better cause. If any one 
considers the duties of a society woman 
light or trivial, let them try it for a time, 
and sneers will turn into awe-struck amaze- 
ment that any one could be found to work 
so hard for mere duty's sake, for Madame 
a la Mode gets no pleasure out of this 
round of gayety ; at least, so she says. She 
is bored to death most of the time, and 
apparently lives in daily expectation of 
death from ennui. Surely she is a self-sac- 
rificing martyr. But what is the sacrifice 
for ? If for her daughters, it is certainly a 
useless one, for they are bored to death 
too. So if that is her only reason, it is 
scarcely worth the trouble. 

It is no small undertaking to meet the 
demands of society, for its claims are many 
and exacting. Each day brings its round 
of gayety. Functions of all sorts must be 
attended and suitable costumes be pre- 
pared for each. The gowns, hats, gloves, 
164 



Society 

etc., to be worn on these occasions demand 
more than a passing thought, and the rights 
of the modiste cannot be ignored if matron 
and maid are to appear as they should. 

The giving of entertainments or paying 
off of social debts, as it is called, is usually 
a matter for grave consideration. There 
are half a dozen small affairs to be given 
to which a favored few are bidden. Then 
will come one grand hash party for which 
each one of the large circle of acquaint- 
ances receives a card. These affairs are 
very charming, very beautiful, as of course 
they should be. Being competitive shows, 
the last is always the most novel and the 
most costly. He who gives his affair early 
in the season is wisest. The competition is 
then not so great, and the strain upon his 
resources is not so taxing. 

And so they keep it up week after week, 
from December until Lent comes to put a 
stop to the season in town. They then 
seek some of fashion's other resorts, only to 
continue the same general plan, followed by 
the mad rush of Easter week, after which the 
summer exodus begins, and more healthful 
165 



Fireside Fancies 

amusements take the place of overheated 
ball-rooms. Talk about these people being 
idle or lazy ! They are the hardest workers 
of any class. They never rest until some- 
body dies and they are compelled for form's 
sake to stop a little while. 

What is the charm about this kind of 
social life ? It does not seem to have any 
object, because it never advances ; it is vir- 
tually the same to-day as it has always been, 
— dancing, flirting, talking, and eating. 

Can it be that these things so completely 
fill their lives and satisfy them that they 
never feel a desire for a more real exist- 
ence? Frosted cake is very nice, but if 
one never had anything else what a relief 
plain bread and butter would be at times ! 

Dancing is delightful if the floor is good 
and the partner agreeable. Flirting seems 
always to be de rigner in society. But as 
for conversation, it does not exist. Society 
does not converse ; it has not time. Society 
chats ; something quite different. And eat- 
ing, though mentioned last, is by no means 
least, for when society entertains, more 
thought, care, and expense is given to eat- 
166 



Society 

ing than to all the other things put to- 
gether. The feast of reason and flow of 
soul style is out of date, and society, unless 
it is up to date in all things, cannot hold 
its own. 

But there is another kind of society, 
although it lays no claim to that title, where 
social intercourse is held a pleasure, where 
meeting and talking with one's friends is a 
privilege and a relaxation from the cares of 
life. Among this set what is said holds a 
more important place than what is worn or 
what is eaten, although they also are ac- 
corded due recognition. Nothing is more 
displeasing than a carelessly dressed per- 
son, and his words, although pearls of wis- 
dom, lose half their weight if the speaker 
is unkempt and unregardful of the nice- 
ties that every one is in duty bound to 
observe. 

Really good society is composed of peo- 
ple who are able to appreciate the best, and 
are willing to give their best in return. 

To be in this kind of society is, indeed, 
something to desire and to strive for, but 
the requirements for membership are be- 
167 



Fireside Fancies 

yond the capabilities of those who find 
their enjoyment in the other kind. Refine- 
ment, intellect, culture, and good breeding 
are the passwords that admit the bearer 
within these doors. 

Where are the brilliant salons of a past 
century ? That we do not have them now 
surely cannot mean that we have no minds 
capable of forming them ! That suppo- 
sition would be too humiliating. It cannot 
be that, for, with all the learning of the 
past to aid us, each succeeding generation 
should prove more clever than the one 
gone before. Everything is made so much 
easier for us than it was for our grand- 
fathers. True, there is just that much more 
to know than there was fifty or a hundred 
years ago, but one need only take the best ; 
much of it is not worth knowing. 

Perhaps one reason we do not have these 
brilliant gatherings is because people are 
too busy with their own affairs and do not 
feel the necessity for that pleasant mutual 
exchange of ideas. But it is a thousand 
pities that people of intellect cannot be 
brought more in touch with each other. 
168 



Castles in Spain 

Nothing so tends to broaden the mind and 
enlarge the capabilities as intercourse with 
one's fellows. He who shuts himself en- 
tirely away from the world is doing himself 
a great injury. No matter how clever he 
may be, his horizon becomes narrowed and 
he himself becomes intolerant of all that 
does not particularly appeal to him. In a 
word, he loses touch with humankind, and 
for that reason fails to accomplish much of 
definite worth. 

Every one can preach ; it is the easiest 
thing in the world to tell others what they 
ought to do ; but, as has been often said, 
"actions speak louder than words," so if 
we say one thing and do another, what we 
say carries very little weight. 

¥¥¥ 

CASTLES IN SPAIN 

Few are so poor as to be entirely with- 
out possessions. Many, indeed most peo- 
ple, have extensive landed estates in Spain 
if nowhere else. Many of the happiest 
169 



Fireside Fancies 

hours of life are spent within that sunny- 
clime. 

Of all kinds of real estate, it is the most 
comfortable to hold, for it is never in need 
of repairs. There are no tax-bills coming 
in, and no tenants demanding all sorts of 
et cseteras. But there it is, always as it should 
be, ready for occupancy at a moment's 
notice ; prepared alike for the coming of a 
large house party or for the advent of the 
individual owner. Spacious enough for 
the one, small enough for the other, a cosey 
retreat where loneliness is unknown, with- 
out a name. 

Ah ! these dream-palaces, what un- 
bounded pleasures lie within their walls ! 
When once the doors close behind us 
absolute content reigns supreme. No one 
is ever unhappy there, but succumbs a 
willing victim to long, tranquil hours of 
bliss. 

What lazy, delicious dreams are ours as 
the golden moments of idleness flit by ! 
In these hours the very essence of the 
healing balm of rest is experienced. Mind, 
body, and heart are absolutely at ease. But 
170 



Castles in Spain 

not all the hours passed in this delightful 
retreat are given over to idleness. Many- 
are rilled with meaning, from which spring 
actions strong and determined. Hours of 
idleness passed by the gifted ones of earth 
are rich in productiveness. Artists, poets, 
musicians, inventors, all these who make 
life sweet and work possible, spend their 
time while residents in Spain with ultimate 
profit to their fellow-men. Many are the 
divine harmonies, the exquisite lines of 
beauty, words that kindle the soul with 
noblest aspirations, and inventions that seem 
the work of a magician which come to us 
from over the border of this mystic land. 
They come to us because their creators 
have used their leisure while rambling 
through the flower-strewn gardens of this 
far-off world to piece together their thoughts 
and ideas, obtaining such results that mir- 
acles are constantly being enacted before 
our very eyes. The world could ill afford 
to do without its dreamers of dreams and 
seers of visions. 

But not to all is given the ability or the 
methodical power necessary for the working 
171 



Fireside Fancies 

out of the very vague idea which, properly 
handled, may result in a prime factor in the 
world's history. 

Other people who are not geniuses, not 
even unusually clever men and women, also 
inhabit their castles in Spain, and with equal 
pleasure to themselves if not of equal profit 
to the world. 

We cannot all be geniuses, and a very 
good thing it is, too. There must be some 
ordinary minds to keep the balance even. 
It would be too trying to one's mental equi- 
librium to be forever surrounded by super- 
latives ; for the master-stroke of a genius 
is always a superlative in its especial field. 
It takes the average individual some time 
to grasp an entirely new idea, to become 
accustomed to a hitherto unknown power, 
to assimilate the use of the new, discarding 
the old ; in a measure changing the whole 
tenor of life as it becomes necessary to adopt 
one's self to altered surroundings. 

Just fancy having something new and 

startling thrust upon our poor distracted 

heads each day ! In that case we should 

have to change from one thing to another 

172 



Castles in Spain 

with such lightning rapidity that the result 
would soon be a world of lunatics. 

Geniuses are glorious examples of the 
capabilities of man. But for the majority 
of humankind ordinary intelligence is bet- 
ter, even if they do live less exalted lives 
and dream far simpler dreams. Yet they, 
too, have Spanish estates where they spend 
whatever time they can afford to take from 
their more prosaic existence. Life there is 
very simple, very unworldly. No evil has 
as yet found admittance within the land. 
All is charmed peace and happiness. The 
sky is always blue, the air balmy, the trees, 
the grass and flowers never fade, but retain 
their greenery and fresh beauty forever. 
It is a land of hope and a land of promise, 
where all things are possible and disappoint- 
ment never comes. 

No one ever grows old there, no one 
ever dies, or, worse still, lives to embitter 
the lives of others, but all are true and 
noble. 

No one enters these charmed precincts 
without a special invitation, so no one is 
ever unwelcome. There are no social debts 
173 



Fireside Fancies 

to be paid, so hash parties are unknown. 
It goes without saying, therefore, that only 
the most delightful intercourse with kindred 
spirits ever takes place. How we sigh for 
that Acadia as we are tossed hither and 
yon like some helpless shuttlecock from the 
relentless battledoors, half crushed to death 
in some maelstrom of society ! We are 
constantly being interrupted in the middle 
of a sentence which, it is true, had very little 
meaning, but it might have ended bril- 
liantly if only we had had sufficent time to 
finish it. But time is something one never 
has in a gathering of this kind, so, after all, 
it really does not matter whether the sen- 
tence is ever finished or not, or, for that 
matter, whether it is ever begun ; some 
one else will say virtually the same thing. 
There is very little variety in society con- 
versation, and so it is just as well to save 
what little breath is left to elbow one's 
way still farther into the crowd, and at last 
through it to emerge victorious from the 
outer door, thankful to be a free man once 
more. 

Things are not done in that way on the 
i74 



Castles in Spain 

Spanish estates. Only the favored few are 
admitted, and there is always plenty of time 
to say what one wants to. And best of 
all, something is possible there that unfor- 
tunately is utterly impossible in any other 
spot on the inhabited globe, the unsaying 
of words once spoken ; there they can be 
blotted out as completely as though never 
uttered ; that is an inestimable boon quite 
worth the trouble of the trip there were it 
a much more difficult journey than it is, 
but the way is very straight, very easy to 
find, and very comfortable to travel over. 
Close the eyes, and, presto ! you are there 
enjoying all the delights of this enchanted 
land. 

The return trip is just as simple, only 
sometimes the landing here is accompanied 
by rather a rude shock and the sound of 
a peremptory voice commanding the im- 
mediate execution of an unpleasant duty. 
At such times the longing for a permanent 
abode in that happy country is intense ; 
but would not even perfection pall in time ? 
Acadia is a thing of the past ; we are not 
yet ready for Utopia. 
175 



Fireside Fancies 



EDUCATION 

Froebel has said, " Educate the child to 
look out for himself," thus suggesting 
education with the very beginning of life. 

There is not the least doubt which makes 
the better man and citizen, he who relies 
upon himself or he who depends upon 
others. 

If from the very beginning the little one 
is taught and encouraged to do for himself 
and what little he can for others, that idea 
once firmly implanted will grow with his 
growth, strengthen with his strength, until, 
when the real problems and difficulties of 
life present themselves, a strong, self-reliant 
nature is ready to meet and overcome them ; 
there will be no faltering, no trying to 
avoid the inevitable, no waiting for some 
one else to shoulder the responsibility. 
Every one has as much as he can do to 
manage his own affairs without assuming the 
burdens of some one else. In all the vital 
points of life one must decide for himself, 
176 



Education 

no one else can do it for him. The edu- 
cation of a firm will, a decided nature, and 
the ability to look after one's self should 
begin with the cradle days. 

So many are taught to be incapable 
when they are but wee toddlers. They 
seem so helpless we do for them many 
things they are quite able to do for them- 
selves. Our love and tender care for 
these tiny atoms of humanity very often 
do them an injury, for the habit of de- 
pending upon others is not easily done 
away with when once formed. It seems 
to be human nature to shirk wherever it is 
possible, but it goes without saying that 
the principle is a bad one. Those who 
stand firmly on their own feet, who meet 
and overcome obstacles instead of going 
around them, are much happier, for they 
feel assured of their position. They have 
made it for themselves and hold it by sheer 
force of character. They have a right to 
a voice in the affairs of the nation. They 
have an identity of their own, and are not 
here on sufferance, as it were. 

Education is the all-important factor 
12 177 



Fireside Fancies 

in determining the position of the man. 
Notoriety can be bought with money or 
achieved in a variety of ways, but enduring 
fame seldom comes unless through edu- 
cation. 

Lack of knowledge will be found to lie 
at the root of most evils. 

It is the want of education that keeps 
the masses in that position. Ignorance is 
the obstacle hardest to combat. In this 
country the people rule the nation. We 
have had abundant proofs of the disastrous 
results in consequence of the ignorance 
which flocks to the polling booths on 
election days. But education will develop 
the masses into the individual, and as a re- 
sult this unfortunate state of affairs will be 
to some extent remedied. The individ- 
ual will then have a clearer idea ot what 
his vote means. He will realize that 
his country's prosperity means his own 
prosperity. 

Education opens all doors, enlarges the 
capacity, receives and gives pleasure, opens 
up mines of wealth where the uneducated 
find only sealed volumes. 
178 



Education 

Pope's statement that a little learning is 
a dangerous thing is very true, but follow 
the poet's advice and it is robbed of its 
dangers. All things must have a begin- 
ning, which is necessarily small. Great 
achievements are the results of tiny em- 
bryos of thought. 

With the majority a little demands more, 
whether in learning, accumulation of prop- 
erty, or what not. Few are content to re- 
main as they are ; aspirations of some kind 
animate every breast. 

The trouble with so many systems of 
education is that they become a cramming 
process, with a little of this, a little of that, 
a few 'isms and 'ologies, and a little music, 
with a very limited knowledge of the arts 
and sciences. It amounts to very little, 
as a rule, because there is no real founda- 
tion to build upon. The school-days over, 
an education of this kind becomes a hazy 
memory of dog-eared text-books, distaste- 
ful tasks hurried through at a breakneck 
speed, and quarrels with teachers. Unfor- 
tunately, this makes the sum total of the 
average education of the boys and girls 
179 



Fireside Fancies 

who throng the city schools ; to this is 
added proficiency in dancing, good taste 
in dressing, and a thorough knowledge of 
the ways of society as under the tutelage 
of Mrs. Grundy. If the education is not 
considered complete, they go to college 
and accentuate the 'isms and 'ologies and 
make records for themselves in basket- and 
foot-ball. In this way are the girls and 
boys generally equipped for their start in 
life. It now depends entirely upon their 
personal exertions whether they make and 
hold worthy positions or sink into insignifi- 
cance and obscurity. But this higher ed- 
ucation, which is the name now given to 
a college course, is not requisite to make 
a clever man or woman. Some of our 
ablest statesmen have come from the 
masses, and have reached their positions 
through strength of character and the de- 
termination to make themselves a power in 
the land. They have accepted education 
of all kinds, whenever and wherever it was 
to be found. In time a few have been 
able to enter the ranks of polished gen- 
tlemen, but most of them remain in the 
1 80 



Education 

rough diamond stage. They are able to 
accomplish a vast deal, it is true, but if 
to the sound judgment and good common 
sense were added an educated sense and a 
wider outlook they would become a pow- 
erful factor in the advancement of civili- 
zation ; but as they are, they are worthy of 
all respect and stand as an example to 
their kind. Every one can become an in- 
fluential power if he choose, but it is to be 
obtained only through individual exertion. 

If our public schools would turn their 
attention more to sensible, practical knowl- 
edge, with the idea of making labor honor- 
able, and less to the aesthetic refinements, 
they would become an immense power for 
good and do much toward solving the 
socialistic problem. 

Every one must work in some way save, 
perhaps, the tramp. Our government is so 
rich and generous it prefers, apparently, to 
support him in idleness at an enormous an- 
nual cost But for those who do not desire 
to be classed along with that nomadic race 
of beings, work is the natural order of things, 
and so again education is a factor of prime 
1S1 



Fireside Fancies 

importance, for it makes work easier. The 
know how is the straightener out of tangles. 
With wider knowledge comes the know 
how. 

It is hard to make those steeped in super- 
stitious ignorance believe this, but such a 
vital truth must find credence at last. All 
great truths force recognition. 

Public libraries, art museums, and public 
parks are all liberal educators. 

If the people are surrounded by beauti- 
ful and refining influences they uncon- 
sciously imbibe them, at first passively, then 
greedily, until the whole tone of their being 
becomes changed, more humanized. 

Surroundings have a very important in- 
fluence on all lives. From earliest baby- 
hood children should live as much as pos- 
sible in an atmosphere of beauty and 
intelligent refinement, the books and pic- 
tures given them to play with should 
suggest only happy thoughts, no cloud 
should unnecessarily darken the little hori- 
zons. Beauty and truth should become a 
part of their earliest memories. In this 
way they unconsciously acquire a love for 
182 



Music 

the beautiful and a knowledge of the best. 
Good taste once gained rarely becomes 
vitiated. 

Education is the key-note to existence, it 
is the civilizer of the world. All great 
reforms have come because of education. 
With increased desire on the part of the 
people for more knowledge higher aspira- 
tions will be born, better surroundings will 
follow, and the world will become more 
enlightened and easier to live in. 

¥¥¥ 

MUSIC 

With the creation of birds music came 
into the world, of their vocal utterances was 
born a boon to mankind. With the crea- 
tion of man came appreciation and enjoy- 
ment of sound and the desire to imitate. 
What delight and surprise must have re- 
sulted from the first human attempt to re- 
produce the tones of his feathered neighbor, 
— what unqualified satisfaction to find that 
he too could emit harmonious sounds ! 
183 



Fireside Fancies 

With the birth of music a humanizing 
element was introduced into the world 
which has proved its efficacy by the hold it 
has upon all people. No nation is so bar- 
barous but it has something analogous to 
the music of civilization, something which 
charms and soothes the savage breast, al- 
though it is as unlike the harmonies to 
which a more aesthetic people is accustomed 
as two things bearing the same name well 
could be. Crude as it is, it meets their 
needs far better than would the divine 
strains of Beethoven or Mozart. The music 
of the Chinese to the ears of an Oriental is 
exquisite and uplifting, while to the unedu- 
cated Western taste it is quite without 
meaning ; more than that, for its thin, shrill 
notes, amusing at first because of their odd- 
ity, become positively disagreeable to one 
accustomed to the full, rich tones of an 
organ swelling out in the grand chords of 
the Messiah. 

All nations from their very inception have 
had music in some form as a part of the 
national life. 

Among people of education it is refining 
184 



Music 

and humanizing to a degree ; it appeals 
to all the finer sensibilities; through it the 
soul's altitude is expressed as it can be in 
no other way ; longings, aspirations, hopes, 
all find voice through the medium of 
musical sounds. 

From the first gay-plumaged songster, 
whose privilege it was to bring so great a 
gift to earth, has been evolved the music 
which stirs the hearts of all people to-day. 
Very gradual has been the transition from 
the first crude efforts of primitive man to 
this epoch where the voice of God may be 
heard in the rolling tones of the organ. 

Of all the arts, music appeals most to the 
senses ; it has become so much a part of life 
as to amount almost to a necessity. Among 
the aesthetics it ranks first, but what a dif- 
ferent meaning the word conveys to each 
individual mind ! Sitting with closed eyes 
listening to the grand, inspiring chords of 
the masters, every fibre of one's being seem 
to vibrate in response. All the realities of 
life with its petty cares and worries seem 
left far behind in a dim, shadowy past. The 
present is the real. The soul is thrilled 
185 



Fireside Fancies 

with pure and noble thoughts ; to live in 
unison with the present mood seems easy ; 
there must be something more in life than 
the struggle for existence and the everlast- 
ing scramble after the almighty dollar. After 
such an experience it is almost with a shock 
one returns to earth, to the consciousness 
of every-day life and to the realization that 
the world of harmony has not yet become 
a practical place to live in. 

Beethoven's sonorous harmonies, Han- 
del giving fitting utterance to religious 
themes, Mozart's tuneful, tender tones, 
these and many others have left an inef- 
faceable impression upon the world. Not 
only the masters of composition, but the 
lesser lights as well, have left their mark. 
To meet the needs of the people music 
must be as varied as humanity itself; it is a 
civilizer of barbarous people and a human- 
izer of civilized people. 

It is a tremendous step from Wagner to 
the latest popular song shouted in stento- 
rian tones by every little street Arab. Yet 
so nicely is the chasm bridged across that 
not even a crack may be found between. 
1 86 



Music 

The gradation is gradual but complete ; 
each step of the way appeals to some one 
capacity. Each one selects from the riches 
before him that which meets his need ; 
there is no lack of variety from which to 
choose either in style or in the medium 
used. The enjoyment derived from the 
strains of a fine symphony orchestra is 
thoroughly satisfying. There is about it 
no disintegrating of parts, it is as one per- 
fect whole, not a sound of many instru- 
ments but of one, magnificently sonorous, 
perfect in modulation, complete in har- 
monies, floating out and fading away into 
melodious space. 

Probably there is no other one thing 
that has given more universal pleasure than 
music in its varied phases : even hopeless 
mediocrity is not only accepted, but in 
many cases is actually enjoyed. In these 
days almost every house holds a piano, and 
as a matter of course the occupants of 
that house use and enjoy it ; even if the 
music is not of a very high order or the 
musician a skilled one, it yet gives pleasure 
to those who love the performer. When 
187 



Fireside Fancies 

weary in mind and body it is soothing and 
restful in the extreme to sink into a cosey 
arm-chair and listen to the voice of one 
dear filling the soft firelit twilight with low, 
sweet sounds ; tender, almost melancholy, 
do they seem until with the coming of the 
lights the music assumes a livelier tone, and 
that delightful, mystic hour is gathered in 
by relentless time to join those other dead 
and gone hours of happiness. 

Who that has once been so fortunate as 
to hear a really fine violinist can ever for- 
get the almost supernatural tones brought 
by his skill from the senseless instrument 
of wood and strings ! In the hands of the 
artist it has become a living thing ; no other 
instrument is so human in its tones, so 
capable of expressing the individuality of 
the performer, the passions of a human 
soul. Plaintive and wild, it seems trem- 
bling and sobbing in an agony of grief, 
wailing like a lost spirit condemned to 
eternal punishment, or again it is all sup- 
pressed excitement, with wild bursts of de- 
lirious laughter, or the mood is dreamy 
and soft, when one scarce dares to breathe 
1 88 



Music 

lest he lose the faint vibrations, the distant 
echoes of the now silent melody. But 
most divine of all is the music of a human 
voice emanating from a soul within. In 
its highest sense music is divine, for among 
all people and in all ages it has been used 
in connection with religious rites. Chris 
tian and Pagan alike have found in it fit 
ting expression for the worship of their 
deities. 

Even the much maligned hand-organ is 
not altogether an evil, for it brings joy to 
the hearts of the street urchins. Its horri- 
bly garbled renderings are quite satisfying 
to them, and the antics of the miserable 
little monkey amuse and keep them out of 
mischief; for a time the sights and sounds 
of city life have lost their attraction. 

" Music is a moral law. It gives a soul 
to the universe, wings to the mind, flight 
to the imagination, a charm to sadness, 
gayety and life to everything. It is the 
essence of order, and leads to all that is 
good, just, and beautiful, of which it is the 
invisible, but nevertheless dazzling, passion- 
ate, and eternal form." 
189 



Fireside Fancies 



SPRING 



I 



The majority of women must have each 
season what they call a new spring suit. 
To Mother Nature must the same privi- 
lege be accorded ; and right gayly does 
she use the right to assume each year a 
beautiful new garb. Rather juvenile, do 
you say, for so old a woman ? Ah ! but re- 
member, women are never any older than 
they look, and surely none look more 
youthful and beautiful than this gener- 
ous, bountiful mother ! Each spring she 
awakens from her long winter's nap more 
fresh and radiant than ever. She looks a 
little tired and faded as the long nights 
come on and the chills of autumn fill the 
air. But then who would not be weary 
after so many months of ceaseless toil? 
She is glad when her work is finished and 
she can go to rest and seek that best re- 
storer, sleep. For her, at least, it is a pan- 
190 



Spring 

acea for all ills. In the early spring, before 
the snow has quite disappeared from the 
hill-tops, she is aroused by the sweet note 
of the bluebird, that hardy little fellow 
who first ventures back to the bleak and 
arid fields, assuring us by his cheerful song 
that spring will not now be long delayed. 
With renewed vitality she awakes and 
hastens to drain the cup of her annual 
draught from the fountain of youth. She 
is ready then to don her gayest apparel. 
She seems, indeed, a very child, so riot- 
ously does she indulge her fancy for gay 
trimmings on her many-shaded green 
gowns. For, after all, green is her favor- 
ite color. Just at first she is a little timid 
in the matter of decorations, and for a time 
uses only white and violet, but soon getting 
bolder, she introduces a touch of yellow 
here and there, quickly followed by gayer 
reds and pinks, until she is fairly a blaze of 
glory. Surely no other woman could com- 
bine so many colors with so harmonious 
an effect ! 

Although so bright and joyous, usually 
she has her times of displeasure, when 
191 



Fireside Fancies 

frowns gather upon her brow. But not 
less beautiful is she to look upon in her 
passion than in her hours of calm serenity. 
Truly sublime is she in the awfulness of 
her wrath, when the echo of her voice is 
heard in the rolling thunder and a swift 
glance catches the lightning-flash of her 
eye. But she is slow to wrath, and after 
such an ebullition of temper seems craving 
forgiveness for having caused so much dis- 
turbance, and tries to atone for her fault by 
making herself more beautiful than before, 
becoming radiant with countless flashing 
jewels sparkling in the sunlight, while 
above her head hangs a rainbow halo of 
glory. She humbles herself in her de- 
sire to propitiate her children, yet at the 
same time she is demanding their hom- 
age, a tribute always willingly paid to 
beauty. 

But even to her come long days of dark- 
ness, when she weeps and weeps, refusing 
to be comforted, until from very weariness 
her tears are spent Then the sun, which 
through all her time of grief has hidden 
his face in despair, shines forth and dries 
192 



Spring 

her eyes with his caresses, and once more 
she smiles upon the world, making glad the 
heart of man. For this same man can 
never accustom himself to the many phases 
of woman's nature. He is very dependent 
upon her for his comfort. Her smiles or 
frowns have much to do with the making 
or the marring of his happiness. In com- 
mon with the rest of her sex, Mother Na- 
ture must consent to bear the imputation 
of being considered fickle. But it is a fault 
easily forgiven one who is so true and gen- 
erous in such a multitude of ways. 

II 

Spring, — the most wonderful of resur- 
rections ! Look where you will a new life 
is seen springing from what is apparently 
dead. Tender blades of grass push up 
through the hard brown earth. Delicate 
new leaves, the tenderest touch would 
bruise or break, force their way out from 
the solid branches of the trees, yet these 
tiny shoots of green come forth fresh and 
perfect and expand into full growth and 
beauty. 

13 193 



Fireside Fancies 

From absolute seeming deadness all na- 
ture is quivering with vitality. 

But even more wonderful is the new life 
of the insect world. It seems incredible that 
anything so airily beautiful as the dragon- 
fly can come from the sluggish grub living 
out its allotted time on the muddy bottom 
of some wayside pond. Finally, feeling a 
necessity for something different, it crawls 
laboriously up the stem of some tall water 
reed and there waits until its bonds are 
loosed, when from this almost helpless thing 
bursts forth an exquisite creation. One 
moment this green-and-gold beauty pauses 
uncertain, trying to realize the marvellous 
change that has overtaken him, then skims 
lightly away over the surface of his old 
home. Hither and thither he darts in a 
perfect ecstasy of delight, fairly intoxicated 
with this strange new freedom. 

When the cicada outgrows his shell and 
leaves it clinging to the rough bark of a 
tree or on a bush, does he ever give a 
thought to what he so lately was as he flits 
through the air on his gauzy iridescent 
wings? When the resurrection came for 
194 



Spring 

him he had ceased to need his old body ; it 
had served its purpose, but its day was past. 
Who can say if he even knew when the 
change took place ? It must surely be a 
change for the better, for in this new exist- 
ence he seems as free as air. 

Some such miracle is constantly taking 
place. One must, indeed, be wilfully blind 
who will deny the existence of what his own 
eyes assure him is being enacted before 
him ; for himself he can see the resurrec- 
tion of an ego into a new environment. 

Perhaps God has made it possible for 
man to witness this change in a lower form 
of life that he may feel assured that a freer 
existence awaits him also. He does not 
demand a blind trust from any one, but 
only asks that we come to Him with a con- 
fidence born of intelligence. The greater 
our knowledge the more reverently do we 
bow before the God whose simplest works 
are so wonderful. 'Tis only the grossest, 
most inexcusable fanaticism will deny the 
existence of a Being whose power is infinite. 
Every tiny blade of grass is witness to it. 
Every breath we draw, every movement is 
195 



Fireside Fancies 

made possible by some unexplainable, con- 
trolling force. Call it what you will, whether 
you give it the name of God or some other 
title, it means the same thing, it is the same 
marvellous influence that causes this im- 
mense globe we inhabit to turn on its axis 
in its own infinitesimal portion of space, 
that each year causes the blossoms to 
mature from tiny bits of beauty into life- 
sustaining elements for man. Without 
God's help it would be impossible for man, 
with all his intelligence and ingenuity, to 
make even so much as one blade of grass 
or one small leaf appear. 

And yet there are men who will scoff at 
the idea of a Supreme Being ! Pity them, 
for they are beneath contempt in their 
dense ignorance. They refuse to see that 
the heavens declare the glory of God, or 
that the firmament showeth His handi- 
work. 

Ill 

Another pleasure the spring brings with 
it is the enjoyment of watching the ever- 
changing woods and fields. From the time 
the first faint green is visible until at last 



Spring 

the whole earth glows with the luxuriant 
beauty of early summer. Every leaf, 
every blade of grass seems animated with 
life, bursting with joy at freedom from the 
long winter's bondage. So wonderful, so 
incomprehensible, are these changes that 
it seems almost a desecration to speak of 
them. The uncertain lights and shadows 
and vague, hazy distances softening all into 
one vast impressionist picture. 

The presumption that can put upon can- 
vas great dabs of purple, yellow, and green, 
labelling them impressionist views of coun- 
try scenes, is something quite beyond the 
comprehension of a real lover of nature. 
Surely the painters of such pictures must 
use their imaginations in place of their 
eyes ! Nature's hazy outlines and uncertain 
vistas cannot be reproduced. 

To live near to nature makes one tender 
and susceptible to all that is true and beau- 
tiful. Country sights and sounds for those 
who have eyes and ears for them are far 
more refining than any to be found within 
the confines of city life. The country 
makes of a man a dreamy dilettante. He 
197 



Fireside Fancies 

who cannot afford the luxury of so living 
had best keep away from the seductive 
beauties of nature. 

¥¥¥ 

WEALTH 

Wealth is a power, whether for good 
or evil lies with the possessor. Rightly 
used, it is the instrument of incalculable 
good ; wrongly used, it is a curse to the in- 
dividual owner and to all who come under 
his influence. 

Much complaint is made in regard to 
the unfair division of riches. But is the 
division so unfair ? As a rule, the man 
who is possessed of large wealth has worked 
hard, economized carefully, and been mind- 
ful of little things ; he has demonstrated 
his right to become a rich man by the way 
in which he has used brain and hands, and 
has proved the old maxim, The world owes 
every man a living, to be true. It is true, 
and will be given to every one who has 
energy and common sense. 
198 



Wealth 

Given equal advantages, two men will 
start in life side by side. In ten years one 
will be in comfortable circumstances, the 
other in debt and barely able to keep his 
head above water. Why? Because one 
has utilized all his opportunities, has never 
used two dollars when one would do ; the 
other has considered it mean and niggardly 
to look after the pennies, and with lordly 
improvidence has squandered dollar after 
dollar on nothing ; when he should have 
been accumulating a competence he has 
been recklessly wasting the little he already 
had along with the best years of his life. 
Want and wretchedness are his daily com- 
panions, and his one topic of conversation 
is a railing at fate as to the unfair division 
of wealth. 

He who works hard for his money knows 
how to appreciate it and use it carefully. 
The inherited fortunes are the only ones 
that are likely to prove a curse. 

Many fortunes are made and lost in an 
hour, but such wealth will generally be 
found resting upon very unstable founda- 
tions ; very frequently depending upon the 
199 



Fireside Fancies 

fluctuations of the stock market. No won- 
der a man becomes old before his time 
and a nervous wreck when he spends his 
days watching the ticker. When stocks 
go up he has made a good deal, and in a 
fever of excitement rushes off buoyed up 
with the hope of effecting another ; quite 
ignoring the fact that his success in the 
mad game generally means the ruin of 
some one else and often disgrace as well. 
It is a wild delirium these men live in. 
What wonder their lives so often end in 
tragedies ! 

Fortunes are made much slower when 
legitimate means are used, but is money 
the only good? Is not a mind at ease 
with money matters in a normal condition 
worth untold millions that are so uncer- 
tain? Money made and saved by judi- 
cious economy is much more likely to last. 
When it comes rapidly it generally goes in 
the same way. 

Where an income is more than sufficient 
for the daily needs, and after the yearly 
nest-egg has been added to the little store, 
it is wise to spend the remainder. A miser 



Wealth 

is as bad as a spendthrift, and the hoarding 
of money helps to bring about panics in 
the mercantile world. 

They say money is harder to make and 
harder to keep than it used to be, but if it 
were would it be spent so freely ? Every- 
thing is becoming more and more beauti- 
ful, and such things as are really good are 
very costly. So much more is necessary 
now than used to be required ; the luxuries 
of fifty years ago are to-day numbered 
among the necessities. 

But then, again, money goes farther than 
it used to, for many things are much 
cheaper ; those articles which are growing 
more costly are only bought by an occa- 
sional Crcesus, or by those who value their 
possessions in accordance with their cost. 
With taste a little will go a long way in 
beautifying the surroundings, and while the 
aforetime luxuries have become necessities, 
they are no longer the occasion of great 
expense, and many of the necessities of 
earlier days have been done away with en- 
tirely. The world has in a measure been 
reconstructed in the last fifty years. 



Fireside Fancies 

Yet is the way of living now more ex- 
cessive than in times gone by? Court 
circles and the upper strata of society of 
all ages, going back to the earliest days of 
which history gives any record, have been 
steeped in extravagance. Barbaric splen- 
dor has not been confined to the nations 
of the East, but has entered largely into the 
surroundings of all civilized countries. 

Plate and jewels, velvets and brocade, 
palaces with lackeys at every turn, all these 
were considered necessary at one time in 
order that the man of wealth should live 
up to his position. Now there is a more 
independent spirit displayed. The rich 
man can live as pleases him best. If it is 
his pleasure to live in a palace, they are to 
be had on every hand, and he assumes of 
his own free will the accompanying cares 
and responsibilities, which are by no means 
trivial. 

It is a serious matter to be the owner ot 
great wealth. So much is expected ; how- 
ever much may be done, more is demanded. 
Every dollar given is expected to be multi- 
plied by ten. A man who is thought to 



Wealth 

have large means is the butt of every 
beggar who ever heard of him. It is five 
dollars here, ten there, a hundred some 
other place, or a few thousands as an en- 
dowment fund. Each has his own pet 
scheme for which he asks and expects to 
receive, thinking that for so worthy a cause 
a little at least might be given. These 
good people seem quite to forget that their 
particular hobbies have not the slightest 
interest for their victim, who, as a rule, 
knows nothing whatever about them, or, 
knowing, may disapprove, whereas he has 
of his own and those of which he does 
approve and wants to help, more, much 
more, than he is able to do. Generally, 
and here in America especially, he has 
made his own money by honest labor. 
Why, then, should he not spend it as seems 
best in his judgment? 

Rich people as a class are looked upon 
with envy. They are supposed to have 
everything they want and plenty of leisure 
to do as they please. As a matter of fact, 
they are very busy people, for the many 
cares attending the management of a 
203 



Fireside Fancies 

large estate require the owner to be con- 
stantly on the alert if things are to go right. 
There are a thousand and one things to 
be looked after that the poor man or he in 
moderate circumstances knows absolutely 
nothing about. The conscientious rich 
man is not to be envied. 

Least of all are the butterflies of life to 
be envied, — those who float in the sun's 
rays until clouds obscure them. If for a 
moment the serious side does present itself, 
they push it aside, they will have none of 
it. Flitting from pleasure to pleasure, they 
live on excitement, their whole existence 
is passed in a feverish, unhealthy atmos- 
phere, with inevitable collapses at the end. 
Even while it lasts, enjoyment of life by 
such cannot continue, nothing interests them 
for any length of time, and living becomes 
one long season of ennui. Surely one 
must pity the victim rather than envy a 
state that causes such a condition ! 

The people who are reckoned just com- 
fortable are after all the ones who are best 
off. Nothing unusual is expected of them. 
They live along quietly and unobtrusively, 
204 



Hours Lost and Hours Gained 

giving what they can, taking such pleas- 
ures as they are able to afford with a feel- 
ing of well-earned reward. No one criti- 
cises the wisdom of what they do so long 
as they pay their bills. No one is con- 
tinually spoiling their pleasure in an inno- 
cent indulgence by hinting to them that 
the money might better have been spent 
elsewhere. Those who jog along quietly 
in the twilight of obscurity are by far the 
happiest. Living on stilts is extremely 
wearisome. 

¥¥¥ 

HOURS LOST AND HOURS 
GAINED 

" Lost, — one golden hour set with sixty 
diamond minutes ; finder will be suitably 
rewarded." So the notice read, but it is not 
recorded that the reward was ever applied 
for. 

The hours pass silently, relentlessly, over 

the heads of those who value them with the 

same unswerving, quiet haste as over those 

who value them not ; who appear to think 

205 



Fireside Fancies 

that those same golden hours can at any 
time be reclaimed and the opportunities 
that came with them be called back and 
taken advantage of. 

But they are gone, irretrievably gone, 
numbered with the things of the past, and 
with them has gone something of life itself, 
the mental as well as the physical, for un- 
less the passing hours are taken advantage 
of to stimulate and strengthen the growth 
of the mental powers, they become less 
and less capable of effort with advancing 
time, and in consequence man sinks lower, 
nearer the animal level, where instinct with 
a limited amount of intelligence prevails. 
But so limited are these faculties that since 
man came to inhabit the earth he has, be- 
cause of his superior mentality, held easy 
supremacy over all other animals. With 
the slowly rolling centuries he has become 
the creature of to-day, as unlike those first 
tribes of wild human bipeds as the mega- 
therium of prehistoric times is unlike the 
trained domestic animal of this era. 

Had man not been endowed with intel- 
lect his place in the world would have 
206 



Hours Lost and Hours Gained 

been a far different one, and that world 
itself would have been something so unlike 
that which science, the result of intellect, 
has made it, that it is impossible to even 
fancy what it might have been had man 
been given instincts only. 

Yet, with all these ten or twelve thou- 
sand years of which there are fairly au- 
thentic records, and of the thousands 
which must have preceded them, when man 
thought only of his daily needs, and any 
idea of leaving data for posterity was alike 
unknown and uncared for by him, has the 
world become so very civilized, has man 
taken advantage of the time given him to 
make of himself what he might have be- 
come? 

Hundreds and thousands of years have 
passed, yet there seems to be no other way 
of settling disputes between nations now 
than there was in the beginning. Lives, 
property, often national honor, are sacri- 
ficed in testing the strength of the still semi- 
barbarous people who look upon war in any 
other light than that of the most wholesale, 
horrible massacre of human beings. To- 
207 



Fireside Fancies 

day, as at all times, that nation is strongest 
that can hold out longest. The question is 
decided not by her commerce, not by her 
scientific gifts to mankind, not by her 
moral worth and her men of brains, but by 
the amount of powder, shot, and provisions 
she can supply to her armies. While this 
state of affairs exists is the meaning of 
civilization understood ? 

When men look lightly upon murder, 
stealing, and licentiousness, how many of 
those precious golden hours set with the 
diamond minutes must have been wasted ! 

Idle hours are not necessarily wasted 
hours. Some of the richest fancies, many 
of the most useful inventions, are evolved 
from these apparently unoccupied minutes, 
the results of which lighten the loads of 
millions of people. The fancies, by giving 
rest, recreation, pleasure, and food for 
thought ; the inventions, by actually assist- 
ing in the routine work of the multitude, 
who earn their bread by the sweat of the 
brow rather than by the no less arduous if 
rather more inspiring work of the brain. 
Such hours, then, cannot be called wasted, 
208 



Hours Lost and Hours Gained 

no matter how idle the individual may- 
seem mingling in some gay scene which 
to a casual observer may appear the very 
essence of thoughtless existence. 

If poets and authors held aloof from all 
such gatherings and sat patiently at desk, 
pen in hand, awaiting the divine flash of 
inspiration that was to make them famous, 
very doubtful is it whether that inspiration 
would ever have come without the expe- 
rience so necessary to aid and enrich the 
imagination. Even where so-called fiction 
is concerned, some slight foundation is ne- 
cessary for the most towering flights of 
fancy. 

For material of a sterner mould the in- 
ventor also must mix with the people, 
otherwise he knows not their needs, and 
the impetus to his imagination, for such it 
necessarily is in the beginning, is wanting. 

For thought which assists progress of 
any kind, hours, even years, must be given 
to apparent idleness. Claude Tillier said 
the time which is best employed is that 
which is lost. That sounds like rather a 
broad assertion, yet there is a vast deal 
14 209 



Fireside Fancies 

more in it than a first thought would sug- 
gest. 

The manual laborer as well as the intel- 
lectual worker must lose many hours that 
he may gain others. Health and strength 
are his prime requisites, therefore recre- 
ation and rest are his daily needs. Na- 
ture's demands must be obeyed. In his 
case, also, time lost is, without doubt, time 
gained. 

A careful apportionment of the hours 
does much to economize time. A method- 
ical doing at the right time of what must 
be done saves many a minute in which 
much may be accomplished. Change of 
occupation is always restful. Fresh mate- 
rial, new interests, are continual require- 
ments if really good results are to be ob- 
tained in anything. 

It is generally those who accomplish the 
least who never have time for anything. 
The busy people, the world's real workers, 
have not time not to take time. Their days 
and years are filled with a fulness of interest 
of which the busy idlers do not even dream. 
They know that if any good work is to re- 



Hours Lost and Hours Gained 

suit time must be taken, the hours must be 
given to bring it to perfect fruition. 

There have been occasional spurts of 
genius from the idlest, most useless of men. 
One admires but at the same time pities 
most profoundly the person who can so 
waste his talents, and who so defrauds him- 
self and others. What he says or writes is 
really worse than useless, because his own 
life either utterly contradicts his precepts 
or is the saddest example of his warnings. 

The time given to each individual is, 
indeed, short. But with each succeeding 
generation the opportunities are greater. 
To-day men can start from a basis of actual 
facts which even fourscore years ago it was 
as impossible to know anything about as it 
is at present to write a trustworthy treatise 
on the state of society and civilization in 
the year of grace nineteen hundred and 
ninety-eight. 

With such a treasury of knowledge ever 
open to call upon in whatever direction is 
prompted by the inclination ; with the 
labor-saving, therefore time-gaining, inven- 
tions of the age, who has the right to shield 



Fireside Fancies 

himself under the excuse that time has 
been denied him in which to accomplish 
some little work, — to give some slight press- 
ure to the lever that is gradually raising the 
world to a better and clearer understanding 
of what life should mean ? 

¥¥¥ 

CULTURE 

For the intellectual health of the family 
it is almost a necessity to have easy and 
frequent access to a well-filled library. The 
books found in a house are generally in- 
dicative of the thought and character of its 
inmates. A well-thumbed volume is an 
intellectual photograph of the owner. But 
go farther than the title, read the pages, 
especially those lines which are marked ; 
read also the notes scribbled here and there 
along the margins, and after a careful study 
of two or three such volumes belonging to 
the same person it will not be difficult to 
form a fairly just estimate of his character. 

Something more to be desired than gold 



Culture 

are the well-filled book-shelves of the stu- 
dent, where the genius of the world is gath- 
ered together awaiting but the outstretched 
hand of the owner to give to him whatever 
he is intellectually capable of grasping. The 
wisdom of all ages stands waiting at the 
door of his mind to confirm, suggest, or re- 
fute his own preconceived notions. His 
theories are to a great extent strengthened 
or discarded in comformity to the books he 
reads and makes a part of his life. Better 
to read one good book, know it thoroughly, 
make it in very truth a part of life, rather 
than skim through a hundred to retain but 
a vague idea of their contents when the 
last volume is closed. That is not reading, 
except the merely mechanical part of it, a 
reading with the eyes but not with the mind ; 
a pure waste of time ; better a thousand 
times be idling in the fresh air of the out- 
door world, so gaining bodily vigor, for the 
other only tends to weaken both mind and 
body. But to read understandingly, gain- 
ing the full meaning of each well-rounded 
sentence, adds a richness to life than which 
nothing is more compensating. For if the 
213 



Fireside Fancies 

mind be well-stored, it will be impossible to 
be wholly miserable for long even in the 
darkest hours. Other pleasures pall in time, 
but with each fresh feast the lover of books 
is more eager for the next. 

To read well is not necessarily to be cul- 
tured ; that is something more than mere 
book knowledge, although it is a very 
essential part of it. To be a person of 
culture one must know many things and 
know them well. A smattering of this, 
that, and the other may show to advantage 
and deceive for a time, but to the observant 
it is soon evident that it is a surface knowl- 
edge only, not to be depended upon. To 
be really cultured requires strenuous effort, 
and the price to be paid for it is eternal 
vigilance. For one thing, it means to know 
and to be able to appreciate the best 
in many directions ; literature, art, music, 
science, each is an inexhaustible treasure- 
house open to the man of culture. He must 
know much and think comprehensively on 
many subjects. It is not enough that he 
read an article on some question of impor- 
tance from an accredited source, and for that 
214 



Culture 

subject adopt the author's views as his own ; 
but he must read many authors, think much 
for himself, and, if possible, obtain some 
practical experience, then thoroughly sift 
and digest, for then and then only is he 
competent to have an opinion that will 
cany weight. 

Intellectuality, culture, and refinement, 
— the three are often confounded, but while 
culture is rarely, perhaps never, found un- 
accompanied by the other two, it is quite 
possible to be either intellectual or refined 
and yet not be both. Refinement is innate ; 
culture and intellect are acquired. An in- 
tellectual person may be an absolute boor, 
utterly indifferent, perhaps even antago- 
nistic, toward the comforts and aesthetics of 
life. True refinement may be quite igno- 
rant of all the 'isms and 'ologies, may not 
know a Raphael from a pre-Raphaelite, 
Milton may be but a name only, merely an 
empty sound ; yet such are often of the salt 
of the earth. 

The seeking after culture is not without 
danger. As the horizon broadens and the 
mind becomes more and more receptive, 
215 



Fireside Fancies 

better able to understand and value that 
which lies before and on all sides waiting to 
be explored, it unconsciously assumes an 
attitude of superiority over others whose 
tastes or whose capabilites do not tend in 
the same direction. Yet these people, if less 
cultivated, are of equal value, filling their 
niche in the world, doing their duty accord- 
ing to the light which is theirs, but in com- 
parison they are as a tallow dip to the 
electric rays radiating from culture. The 
danger then lies in ignoring, — treating con- 
temptuously those whose minds are not at- 
tuned to the egotists, for that he will find it 
all too easy to become ; the difficulty will 
be in avoiding it ; and while the term cul- 
tured cannot be denied him, yet if with all 
his appreciation and interest in what is 
good and great the one essential touch, 
toleration, is still wanting, he has failed to 
lay the most important stone in the whole 
foundation. 

Rather than assume the role of egoist 
because of the little knowledge acquired, 
it would seem that from that coign of van- 
tage he was better able to appreciate his 
216 



Culture 

ignorance of much to which he could never 
hope to attain in one short life, to say with 
Socrates, " I am indeed the wisest man, for 
I know that I know nothing." 

Know thyself, said Thales ; good advice, 
indeed. But how many follow it? It 
would be a very firm foundation on which 
to build a life. Little danger in that case 
of carping at the frailties of others. 

If to become cultured is to think lightly 
or condemn all persons and things not 
excelling in excellence, is it not some- 
thing to be avoided rather than sought for ? 
But why confine culture to the mind, why 
not cultivate the moral qualities and ten- 
der heart sympathies ? Why think of cul- 
ture as something connected with the in- 
tellect only? In that case it becomes 
mere pedantry, and drifts in one of two di- 
rections, — dilettanteism or a desire to raise 
the masses. Realizing from personal expe- 
rience the inestimable benefits to be de- 
rived from wider knowledge, in a spirit of 
kindness they wish to help others attain to 
a like plane. But, as a rule, such people are 
unfortunate in the way they go about what 
217 



Fireside Fancies 

they call raising the masses. In the very 
beginning they overpower them with a dis- 
play of knowledge, utterly crush them under 
the sense of their own ignorance. While 
one in twenty may have the courage and 
the ability to rise above this and to appre- 
ciate what a real if mistaken kindness has 
to offer, the other nineteen are completely 
confused under a shower of words which, 
to their limited understanding, convey 
nothing but a series of sounds ; so culture 
is not just the right word to apply in such 
a case ; the real actuating principle is some- 
thing other than that. The real thing is 
something that the possessor, knowing its 
worth, desires to share with all. Mat- 
thew Arnold describes this most aptly : of 
real culture he says, " It does not try to 
teach down to the level of inferior classes ; 
it does not try to win them for this or 
that sect of its own with ready-made 
judgments and watchwords. It seeks to 
do away with classes ; to make the best 
that has been thought and known in the 
world current everywhere ; to make all 
men live in an atmosphere of sweetness 
218 



Culture 

and light, where they may use ideas as it 
uses them itself, freely, nourished and not 
bound by them." This is the result of real 
culture ; it seeks to humanize knowledge ; 
to make known in all circles the best and 
only the best. But until the best only is 
current coin among people of education 
and social position, how is it possible for 
those who occupy a different level, and 
who look to their so-called superiors for 
example, to be very different from what 
they now are ? Ignorance and vulgarity 
are even less attractive tricked out in 
broadcloth and sables than under home- 
spun and calico. When such people are 
not only tolerated, but are even courted 
among those who ought to demand cour- 
tesy and good breeding, merely because 
they have either a birthright membership 
or have bought their way into good so- 
ciety, what wonder that unlettered igno- 
rance scoffs at the true as well as the false, 
and that anarchy and socialism are rife, 
and will continue so until the masses cease 
through education to be the masses and 
become individuals. But to become edu- 
219 



Fireside Fancies 

cated is a slow process, and requires more 
than a knowledge of the little boy's three 
R's. To become cultured is another thing, 
and is purely a matter of choice, but it is 
not at all necessary in order to raise the 
public welfare from a social and political 
stand-point. 



THE END 



DEC 15 * 89 * 



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